Have you ever wanted to change the world?

Would you make it better?
Would you make it happier?
Or would you just make it easier?

Would you change it for good?
Or maybe for evil?

How would you change it?

Would you do it to change your image?
Or to fall in love?
Or maybe to just make that one person smile?

Would you end all wars?
Would you feed all hungry?
Or would you house all poor?

Why would you change the world?

Do you want to be the hero?
Or the villian?

There are many things we want to change,
Whether in our selves,
Or in others.

Some are greedy,
Some are humble,
Some just want peace.

With many things,
We would want to change,
It’s okay if the only thing you change,
Is yourself.

Sometimes it is better to delete the person with the messages. Wash their toxic touches off one by one. Cry until you drench the image of them. Scream until you can no longer hear their voice and Erase their name from your brain. Say their name over and over until their name loses flavor. So when someone says their name in a conversation you no longer know who they are talking about.

You look me in the eye, and slowly turn the knife,
And im sure you have the best intentions to antagonize my life,
You throw the knife and use your hand terror in your eyes,
For you cant see your tries to help, is what makes me want to die

Humanistic traits
they are difficult things to find
even in humans.

I think I've been able
to find the sweet delights
of humanity
in the succulent fruits
that delight the dining room table.

They are ravenous
and quite fruitful with
the detailed insides of how
to live a meaningful
and quite delicious lifestyle.

Knowing when to drop problems
and ripen their own thoughts
they are prone to becoming rotten,
but when their time comes
they do not spoil the world around them
instead they spread the joy
of opportunity
to their children instead.

On the news,
in the papers,
lack of goodwill,
no real charity,
real world problems smudged
with distraction.
Will it ever change?

It's odd to think of how much time I spend working out a mental fallacy or problem in my head or on paper and then it's just gone. It's like a rhetorical analysis and my life is a story.

Today i was struggling a tad about spending this weekend at my boyfriend's and him not spending too much time with me. But immediately afterward, I summed that yes, he's happy to see me, but I was the one who asked to visit and he already had plans of things to do. So Though he appreciated my company, he has others things to do and enjoy as well.

This is not OUR weekend or holiday. I am just participating in it.

It was like this welling emotion of hurt suddenly was alleviated, knowing that it was not about shirking me; it was about getting things he had already endeavored to do done.

Thinking gets me to many better places than places I previously was before.

I solve a lot of my own problems staring at a screen and typing them out, or just staring and thinking in general. It gets me through issues that don't need to be issues. Its just my chemical imbalances ramping up small emotions that need not be catastrophic, but can sometimes turn to be.

Similarly, I've solved why I'm an extrovert writer. My only friends were people in stories, and though I adore human energy and potential, real human beings do not compare to the neatness and logic of story characters. They can both feel as real, but real people can change on a dime, or be growthless, or waste their time and learn nothing.

In a story we'd call that unrealistic.

So I'm content being around people, feeding off their glorious energy, but also fine not being too interactive at all times. I can hear voices in movies, I can meet people in stories. I can suffice on the people between pages, and also the people out of pages who feel strong and real and connective to me.

Thinking and reflecting is one of my strongest traits. Telling my therapist about this trait was one of the first times I realized my possible brilliance. I told her I reflect and work out problems with myself, as it was the only way I figured out how to live when things were worst, and she was stunned. She says that trait, one used to often, can sometimes be attributed to genius.

Understandably, I was also stunned.

Reflecting on reflecting even feels rejuvenating. I am so proud of this skill, the skill that kept me alive and now is helping me learn to be self-sufficient. The growth is exponential. The usability is astounding.

I feel so lucky to be able to have it.