A weekend wasted on kindness, cars go by, in the city there's always people. A famous diver 'comes out'. A role model finalised, I think we now have one to be proud of (?). I look for them. Am I always going to be like this? Can I choose to not be walked on, pushed over, or is it part of who I am? I don't want to walk like a victim. I want to be someone you DON'T mess with.
I used to think I had beaten it, but I'm just as frightened now as I've always been. And I've never felt uglier. Fears flood back from far ago, like sitting in biology trying to remain dignified and cool while Martyn Carter kept knocking my glasses off my face. Laughing off humiliation is an art that is not nice to look at, and worse to create. Standing up for yourself can be hard on your face.
This December I want to try and write my blog every day, but with the theme of Christmas and being festive entwined in each post, no matter how irrelevant. It isn't cookies and egg nog and it isn't carols and candles. I understood last night once again the pointlessness of a time of year you have to really force yourself to enjoy when you see it for what it is. Charity starts at home, and it ends as blood spit in my mouth.
I won't give up on myself because that's stupid but I may give up on Christmas. I don't feel like it's something I will be able to notice. I don't give a shit. I really don't. I hate all this family shit. But I will remember stuff, and I will use it to help myself. It's around this time of year where I wish for summer, and I realise how good I look with a tan, and the happiest place to be ever is a tropical beach with your imaginary boyfriend.
No comments:
Post a Comment