untitled mess

ignorance is bliss, but is it really?
you think there's nothing to miss
and it's so silly
that all these people are freaking out over these
social things, these
business deals, these
media flings, these
court appeals, but
it's got nothing to do with you.
right?
just let everyone else handle it.
yeah. sure. they know what they're doing.
but

among all of those voices -
standing, waiting, silently fighting
for your choices - is 
the kind of inciting change that can 
dim a morning star with morning sickness,
break a civil union with another man's religion,
censor the freedom of speech that our forefathers established-
because god forbid you just try to breathe in 
when life gets you down
and release through a copyrighted song.

but yeah, you know. you're young.
you don't have to care.
it is a whole other world out there.
government? psh. i barely passed that class.
the idea just completely strips you down
into the despicable notion that you,
one individual in all this commotion, 
could turn things around. so why bother?

because
it only takes a spark to start a flame.
and it is among the people,
separate souls such as yourself,
that we can exclaim,
proclaim, make a change,
stop these games, and remind
those guys upstairs that we're the ones
who work to play;
we are the ones who, at the end of the day
shouldn't have to think twice about
how to feed another mouth,
why it's so unacceptable to have a same-sex spouse,
or supporting a fellow artist by spreading their name around.

just know that maybe, someday,
you could be the 2% on that birth control label.
you could find that one special person, 
and not be considered equal among other couples.
you could be the one trying to make it big,
sharing your thoughts,
your passions,
your soul,
and a fan could be arrested
for one single download.

so maybe ignorance is not bliss.
and there is a ton that you could miss
if you're not willing to be a part of this.
voices, choices. change.
know that this generation has what it takes
to make sure no one else has to pay for these mistakes.

The Tradition of Change

As a child, I always loved traditions. They gave me something to look forward to--they were a constant. I always insisted on doing things the same way every year for Mother's Day, Christmas, Thanksgiving, some birthdays, and Father's Day; however, I'm far beyond questioning whether or not it's really for my own personal benefit.

My family has always been anything but traditional. I guess we've always had our own ways, but they were so different and, as I saw it, uncomfortably abnormal. I tried to accept it, or at least act like the situation didn't bother me, but I always knew I didn't like it. I didn't like that I only saw my dad on the weekends and wednesday nights, even though there were times when I didn't want to leave. I didn't like that things would go unnoticed if we could potentially recognize it as a family, because I wanted us to be brought together. I wanted just that: a family.

I've seen all these commercials, shows, movies, and even family friends in a stable, healthy father-daughter relationship, and it infuriates me every time. I get so frustrated because I thought I had what they have, but I never did. Perhaps at one point, but all I can recall is being the parent in the relationship and it makes me so mad. Why should I have to worry about the bills, groceries, debts, and other finances at 8 years of age? How am I supposed to know how to handle that? I wanted so much to just fix everything so my daddy would be the fun-loving, gentle figure I longed for him to be.

What's worse is I felt as if I was horrible at covering up my true feelings. The only way I knew how to communicate was with passive aggression, and that got me into an even deeper hole. It was under the influence of the closest adults in my life that my thought processes became so routinely black and white. Divorced parents. Strict mother, relaxed father. School and weekends. Obedience and personal responsibility. Even a year and a half of treatment hardly scratched the surface of what my head goes through every day, dragging my heart along with it.

My personal mantra these past couple of months has simply been: "You are not responsible for how others think, act, or feel. And only you are responsible for yourself and your own happiness." It's been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but it's worth it. It comes with pros and cons, but I'm working on it, and I'm slowly beginning to accept myself again. I'm not going to give in to the subconscious mind games that tear me apart from the inside out. He is out of my life for the most part, and I think it should stay that way. So for now, Happy Father's Day. I'm sure you'll be fine with your apparently new girlfriend and two other kids. You never were one for traditions, anyway.

Jealousy

Jealousy will be the end of me. Especially if I let yours dictate me — continuously— I have tried apathy, pleasantry, empathy, becoming your enemy. I am in agony. I am so graciously, unbearably caring and I would never consider daring to question the thickness of your skull and the dull independence you desperately strive for.

Instead, I am endlessly avoiding your superfluous, annoying subroutine of smiles and lies with a thick plastic coating that conceals your eyes. And you say you put your heart on the line, but you’ve pushed it so far that it’s nowhere in sight. And you act like you care so much when the truth is all you do is judge. And you think you need just a touch of that opposite sex, that he will make everything better; except it’s always too much and never enough.

You think you can handle yourself when it’s rough, and no matter how tough or how tall the walls you put up, you still manage to mess things up. When you flirt, you stutter. Stumble when you strut. You get high on attention when you act like a slut. And no amount of pushing, literal pulling, constant convincing, despondent reminiscing, blatant cheating, or subtle deceiving will distract from the fact that you walk around bleeding from deep wounds of desperation, on your perpetual search for reparation of the pain you refuse to let yourself feel.

I don’t know you. I know the way you act. I don’t not like you. I despise the way you interact with my friends. “Talk to me. Come over here. I have to say something important that she can’t hear.” I can only imagine what goes through your mind when you’re trying to keep me one step behind. “I’ll mention something she won’t understand so I can feel better about who I am. She thinks everyone loves her, but I know that I am above her. I have more talent in the bounce of my hair than she ever will.” I know you’re scared. I’ve seen it since day one and don’t think that I am that blind, because I’m not just anyone.

I’ve had so much crap from you that I don’t deserve. I almost can’t believe that you’d have the nerve to treat others as minorities as if you have authority when all of your priorities are self-seeking. You’re so lost, you couldn’t find yourself in a mirror. I can’t believe I let you make me feel so completely inferior to your antics. It couldn’t be any clearer that you're frantic to keep people at bay so long as you continue to have your way.

Not everyone’s going to fall for your tricks and I cannot wait until the day when that little switch finally clicks. I sincerely hope it hits you like a ton of bricks when you realize that guys will refuse to be your quick fix and the friends you neglected may have never respected you. All the time you invested to make sure you’re protected has greatly affected the life you thought you knew.

So don’t think that your jealousy will be upsetting me anymore. For the life of me, I cannot see how others play along with your insecurities and petty things that will do nothing for you in five years. No, I will not buy into the personal chaos you’ve organized to attract all eyes, mesmerize and distract from the humility of your peace of mind. I am no longer agonized because I’ve finally empathized and left it at that. I am through with being your welcome mat because no human being was made to be stepped on. I have finally found my place of peace where I am out of your shallow reach and I genuinely hope you can broaden your views because I would love to see the real you.