I hope the plant you gave me dies

I look up to the person I hope to be, but doing so makes it difficult to respect the person I’ve been in the past, sometimes even as early as yesterday.

Wake up, formulate a good enough reason to get out of bed, forget to water the plants, find something beautiful and suck the life out of it, something like that.

One needs to identify flaws in order to fix them, I’d often imagine. I was soon to discover how quickly that becomes painfully demotivating. Lingering on past mistakes, constantly psychoanalyzing ones thoughts. My head is always above me “This thing you did was a mistake, don’t look away you need to see it, LOOK AT IT. A monumental fuck up on your behalf, fix it.” “You dare act that fucking careless again, look at what it’s done to us.” I’m just slightly too timid to stand up to how counterproductive that is, all in due time I hope.

So this is where I hide, and it’s time to water the plants again. It’s been too long to my disgust, they’re looking limp and lifeless. You’re welcome here, but i need to try wrap my mind around another day, so please don’t walk slowly in front of me.

I struggle to pinpoint how I feel towards people I’m close to, it’s always a battle between two extremes. I utterly crave your company in some moments but there are times where if I had to write a novel about all the things that make me despise your presence I already have the draft checked and edited at the back of my head. Maybe it’s just a vague symptom of feelings I have towards myself. Maybe I’m just in constant search for a perfection that can never exist within a person.

Every decision you make is a reflection of your morals, a reflection of your fears and goals and all those vague but totally relevant things we try not to think too hard about.

I don’t fear your colours as much as I fear mine, and as much as I so appreciated your worldly gift I hope the plant you gave me dies. Even though i water it, just enough to keep it alive.


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