aravelle: A picture of a lamia bathing by a window, in a wooden tub. (Default)
Anyone who says that being sensitive is beautiful, doesn't have to live with. Not inside them.
They don't have to deal with mood swings or being hurt when someone dislikes something you like or having the most fucking childish impulses, and being aware that they're childish, and thus not acting on them because they don't want to.

I wish I was perfect. I can't deny it. I wish I could make everyone happy, I wish that I could agree with everyone and just exhaust myself and make progress with my life. I wish I could be normal. I realize normal isn't real, not in the States but.. I like to think it is. I like to think that normal is the white cookie cutter family with the golden retriever and picket fence and happy stay at home mom and the dad that works from 9 to 5. It's the older brother who does sports, and the older sister whose a cheerleader, or going into an Ivy League school. It's nothing like me, or the people I surround myself with. I'm so absorbed in my own world, a world of queer artsy nerds, that I have little to no regular interaction with the outside and sometimes I think I forget how to cope out there. But.. it's not like I like it out there much, either. I wish I could either fit the mold and be cookie cutter, or just be an outright freak and not care. But I feel like I'm stuck in the middle, and it's terrible.

I feel like a mermaid.
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