Since I can remember, I’ve always felt this substantial pressure.
A pressure to be perfect.
To be this spectacle.
To make everyone happy.
So, that’s exactly what I did. I lived my life for the appeasement of the people of which I surrounded myself.
My wants and needs being met?
None of these things mattered to me because I was accepted.
That acceptance made me feel afloat when inside I was on the ocean floor, bricks chained to my feet, losing life.
Then one day, those chains were broken.
I learned that acceptance lacked spiritual value to me.
Nothing comes close to our connection, though.
We scramble around thinking that our decisions reflect our wants but we’ve been living a lie.
But the truth is, we’ve only developed these “wants” as accumulated approvals from society in order to maintain acceptance.
Fuck the norm.
These people that we live for all have something about their lives that no one else understands or supports. Yet, they’re happy and functioning (and lying) in the very same society which judges them.
If they can make it work- living two lives, maintaining their happiness, surely my joy isn’t that bad.
Surely I can have my you.