intensethinks

They all circle around, replaying themselves over and over again. Never leaving, multiplying. Trapped inside because she believes they are true, nobody knows how much it hurts. All the names, and flaws they criticize. They make her more insecure, obsessed with changing to be accepted. She is suffocating with everyone around her. Nobody helping, everyones laughing. She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep going, pretending it doesn’t tear her apart. Every time she hears these poisonous titles they become more embedded in her heart. The poison racing down her blood stream, spreading the pain around. She doesn’t love herself in anyway, shape or part. All the things they mocked her for, swirl around on a never ending loop. Repeating throughout the day, every time she speaks or moves. She is trapped in a box with all these piercing words, jabbing her until she can’t stand anymore. She keeps it all in, until she explodes. Maybe then everyone will know. 

 Shattered in a million different pieces, all in unique shapes. Not able to be glued back or replaced. Saying sorry wont put it back together, apologizing is polite but it doesn’t mend those sharp edges together again. When we are young we are always taught to say sorry. For everything we did on accident or on purpose. As we get older and more serious accidents happen or bad choices made. These conflicts can’t be fixed by one word. Feeling regretful won’t take back the actions you made. We have to change and strive to make the situation better. Being rueful is a start, but it still hurts the other person. Saying sorry to a broken vase won’t fix it up before your eyes. 

We all know that no two people are the same, but we don’t act like we know. We expect others to be like us or want ourselves to be like one of the “cool” kids. What makes that kid seem more liked than everyone else? Talents and skills make us who we are. If everyone was great at everything it wouldn’t be exciting. There would be nothing to work for. No one to look up too. Clothes can express how we feel or what we like. If you walked down the street and others around you had the same style would you like it more or less? What about if we all wore the same outfit? Variation should be embraced. Dissimilarities aren’t flaws in the design of the human bodies. They aren’t going to make us stop working. But they can wear us out, these contrasts between one another can break down our confidence. Make us feel like we are worth less than others, our talents may seem dense when compared to someone else. Our talents are all unalike. We can do something they can’t! Divergence is important, dragging others down because of contradiction isn’t. We shouldn’t judge others based on their skills. It’s not wrong to be an abstract painting hanging on a wall beside portraits. It’s not bad to be the white crayon in a pack of vibrant colors. White is just as important than the others.That white crayon can do something other colors can not. Difference makes life more exciting. 

Feelings are tough to admit. Words can be hard to say. Words admitting our feelings is sometimes impossible. Opening up makes us feel like we are sharing apart of who we are, opening up is like peeling away another layer. After peeling away the layer the other person can see a new you, a new part of you. That layer underneath is exposed and now can be cared about. Not peeling away this layer of admitting our feelings isn’t heathy. But we do it because we are scared, we are scared to show people another part of us. Scared they won’t understand why or what we feel. We drive this emotion in the forgotten piece of our mind and hope we never have to unburden this misery. This heart ache builds, expands into a wider range of sensitivity. We neglect this sorrow thinking it will disappear, but it comes back. Stronger. Greater. Affects our mood, words and body. We need to peel back the layer and release this desolation from the cage we weaved and tied around it. Let that feeling out, let the words fall out of your mouth. Open up to a person that’s trust worthy. Face your grief, and get through it the real way. 

Why…
Why do we put others down to make us feel better.

Why do we feel the need to make someone so terrible so we look “cool”.

Why do very little stand up for the underdog.

Why can’t we accept everyone.

Why is our judgment more important than friendship.

Why do we call people names that aren’t even true.

Why do we tell people to end their lives.

Why do we make a joke out of the insensitive labels.

Why are we scared of standing up.

Why are we scared to be the under dog.

Why do we make fun of someone just because one of the popular kids are.

Why can’t we stop this.

But the more important question is how…

Everyone trusts someone. Even if it’s themselves. Trust is abused, it’s beaten everyday with a cold metal bat. It tries to stand back up but trust gets kicked back down. Trust can be broken, and trust can be given. We get someone to trust us, and use it. We break it. And try to gain it back. Trust shouldn’t be given out like a present. We can’t be given trust just to return it for something better, newer. Trust is a privilege, it’s a symbolic word that we hold on too when our doubt flood our innocent minds. Trust is having hope in something or someone that they will do the right thing. Most of the time, the wrong thing happens. The thing that’s twisted up like two branches trying to grow in the same space. Once trust is broken it will never truly and fully be patched back up. You can stitch it everyday with new thread hoping the seams don’t break. But they do. They will, a little less each time. But they will never be new again. Those stitches with never be the first ones, and will never be perfectly placed. You can bandage up a broken window. But that shattered window will never become new. Those empty cracks will never fill up and disappear with no marks. Trust should be handled with care, like it’s you’re last glass plate. You shouldn’t throw it down because new plates arrived. 

Sadness, the kind that lingers like the taste of a bitter lemon. The empty feeling inside that slowly drains us like a grape in the sun. The thought that repeats itself like a broken record. Sadness can be a lot of things and caused by various different events. Sadness can eat us up from the inside, slowly nibbling it’s way up till it gets to our brian. Once that empty feeling is a thought in our minds it’s set there for a period of time. No matter how hard we try we can’t shake off this thought, we can’t erase it because it is now written in ink. The aggravating impression that no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you do and no matter how good we look they still won’t think we are good enough. But good enough for what? Them. Or ourselves. We ask others to cure our sadness like its a 24 hour flu. We ask others to help us like they can take the emptiness away. This screaming sadness inside can’t be helped or cured by a doctor. It will keep screaming louder and louder until it breaks the glass. The only person that can get rid of this notion of our endless failure, is ourselves. We are the only ones that have the power to choose what we believe is the truth. It might take time but eventually this conclusion that has been gnawing at our head will fade into a feeling. An unpleasant emotion, but much easier to dissolve. Through time this feeling with stop eating at us. And it will turn in to an example, something to remind us of what happened. A memory. 

Think before you give people labels…Labels aren’t just names you call people, labels are your way of saying that’s how we see them. That’s who they are. But what if those make someone who they aren’t?  What would happen if everyone thought about what they are calling someone before they said it? The word slut given out to girls that haven’t had a kiss before. Ugly given out to boys who don’t have money for clothes. These names can change a person, make them think that’s who they are. What you see of them is like a zoomed up screen, if you zoom out your whole perspective will be changed. The girl you called a slut based on a fraction of her life, has major depression and gets abused at home. The boy you called ugly based on his clothes has to provide for his family and lost his house. Everyone has a story behind their smiles and tears. so before you make labels to someone you think you know; maybe think about you are really doing. Because really… you don’t know them at all. You don’t know their life outside of what you see. You don’t take the time to talk to them or ask them. You make a quick judgement and assume that’s how they act, but they put on an act. They want to fit in. Everyone does.