i have been told that i write only of love or my inner battles, and considering i'm confused as to whatever 'love' is these days (sometimes i know, sometimes i don't) we might as well stick that it the same box with everything else, which leaves me to writing solely of my battles- well, then here's another fucking piece of writing to add to my collection.
it is unusual that anything is a black or white answer in my life. and i am always surprised by those who have it all neatly sorted out into labeled boxes of 'right and 'wrong' or 'definitely' and 'definitely not' ... okay so maybe they don't have them ALL sorted out, but with the way they are so completely bothered by my indecisiveness, i am left to feel as if i'm the only person in the word to have this disgusting ... trait if you will.
and it is what drives my silence. because of the tens of thousands of things happening in my mind- the battles. their thunderous war cries often leave bits and pieces of words on the trampled soil, leaving me to pick them up and spit them out- branding, on the ears within distance, mixed emotion and lost fragments stripped of what i wish them to mean. what i really battle with. what i may really know. speaking leaves no room for erasing, deleting what is said. for as soon as the words are out- and said -phrases like 'just kidding' or 'what i meant was...' become useless. worthless. because emotions can fire within any word. somehow providing false statements most take to heart.
and to ask questions to and indecisive person, like me, is like leaving out poisoned cheese for a starving mouse. already fragile and in search of something to better their situation, they come upon apparent salvation, something that looks, on the outside, simply harmless and inviting, something that becomes suddenly harm-full. for when more and more is ingested, the light at the end of the tunnel gets increasingly smaller. darker. scarier. hope is lost. and once again the painful familiarity of not knowing what's going on inside anymore takes over.
expectations haunt me, labels too. for they, like many things, mean a thousand different things to a thousand different people. and an attempt to ever assume one knows what these mean to another person is both foolish- and frightening -> to know you can't know.
perhaps it is thoughts like this that drive me to my silenced struggle. want to please. want to stand up for me. find my strength and wear it on my sleeve. yet sometimes i am weak. eternal rest, death, the thought rarely is far away. seems so much easier sometimes.
but i .... know better? am loved? am wimpy and afraid.
yes.
i am a person of battles. no, a person of head vs. heart. perhaps both. hell i even battle with my battles.
i know there is no one to comprehend me. especially because i don't either.
and yet- that seems to be all i'm looking for. any small amount of understanding.