Thoughts- on bearing the soul
That’s what I see you know, in the center of it all- a small child, sitting on a large chair, not daring to move off the chair because it is safe on the chair. The child cannot get into trouble if stays on the chair, the child cannot fuck up, or mess shit up if it just stays on the chair. No one will make fun of the child if it just stays there, on the chair, hiding from everyone because no one can see it now. No one can yell at the child, tell it what it’s messing up again, saying it’s fucking up its life, or always doing it wrong, making so many mistakes, that it’ll never learn… That’s what’s there. In the middle of all the facades, under all the smiles, and the jokes, and the fake apathy. It’s a fucking little child, sitting on a chair, so afraid to get off the chair for fear is doing it wrong, for fear of falling- because no one has ever been there to help the child up, and the child thinks- why would they? No one will ever help a fuck up, no one ever has helped me, and no one ever