I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care, but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else has.
Honestly my heart still hurts. Cruel things were said that unfortunately will never be unsaid (beware the price one pays to “win” an argument). I have not received any form of apology, though I have already forgiven which has brought peace to my heart. My spirit feels heavy with many lessons… I’ve seen what blind anger looks like, I’ve been the recipient of rage and I have reaffirmed these personal truths: I do not want to embody the characteristics of an angry person in my interactions with others, even when I’m actually, really angry. I do not engage in shouting matches and it’s OK to walk away when someone is behaving in a way dis-aligned with the achievement of a constructive outcome.
― E.A. (via sexiestgiraffe)
I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
― Anna Peters (via rauchwolken)