For a second, I wish I was born into another time and place.
What good would that do? Would I not be living in the same world? Would I not be the same depraved, self-centered, broken person in that place? Would it really be better? Would I be happier? Is that what I’m searching for? Happiness?
I remember the time when I went home crying wondering how anyone would understand me. They wanted a second home and all I wanted was a place to call home. I cried because that’s all they were living for.
But look at me now. What is so different about me? Nothing. I am right there, in that same place. And now I cry with pitiful tears for this girl who has to grow up and become an ‘adult.’ Adults look for houses to buy. Adults paste on a smile and say hello to people. Adults act like they’ve got life figured out. Adults use people as objects that ‘need’ help. Adults pretend they don’t hurt inside. Adults want to give advice because they are older and wiser. Adults look for someone to marry. Adults work at jobs they don’t like. Adults don’t trust anyone. Or really love anyone. Or really live. Really really live.
What is this life that we lead?
What is this world that we live in?
Who is this person that has come out of it?
Don’t give up on me, friend. Don’t give up on me. Please.
Don’t give up on me.