Best not to think too much. Especially about other people. They do things for their own reasons and I'll never understand their reasons. I don't think like them. In the end, I'll know who my real friends are and that is all that matters. If they want to dump me from their lives, that is their choice. They'll be missing out. I know I'm a good girl and that is all that matters to me. They can think whatever they want of me. In the end, they don't really know me... Those who have stuck around this long are the ones who'll be there for as long as it takes. Until they decide they don't want to be there anymore.
It's okay though. In the end, it is okay.
I keep thinking about my death. Lately. I keep wondering who would actually come to my funeral. Who would miss me? Besides some family?
A part of me is okay with dying, the other part can't just leave the opportunities life has to offer behind for whatever is behind that final curtain.
I know I'm a loner, but I don't see that people are going out of their ways to get to know me. Maybe it is because I push people away. I do it because I'm used to being alone. It is easier than getting hurt by people who I'd like to have in my life, but who do not want me in their lives. And yes, some of those people are relatives. I guess family means more to me than it does to them. I can't help the fact that things that cost nothing but effort and time mean more to me than what you can buy from a store.
It's okay though. In the end, it is okay.
It's okay because I tell myself. In order to convince myself....
The convincing takes time. A lot of time.... More time than I probably have to live this life.
So this is why I keep plugging away with my poetry... I want to get caught up with this stuff so that I can leave something behind. Hundreds of years from now they can read my words and my words will be the only thing left of me. Maybe descendants... Maybe. I might not even have that by then.
It's okay though. In the end, it is okay.
I keep thinking about my death. Lately. I keep wondering who would actually come to my funeral. Who would miss me? Besides some family?
A part of me is okay with dying, the other part can't just leave the opportunities life has to offer behind for whatever is behind that final curtain.
I know I'm a loner, but I don't see that people are going out of their ways to get to know me. Maybe it is because I push people away. I do it because I'm used to being alone. It is easier than getting hurt by people who I'd like to have in my life, but who do not want me in their lives. And yes, some of those people are relatives. I guess family means more to me than it does to them. I can't help the fact that things that cost nothing but effort and time mean more to me than what you can buy from a store.
It's okay though. In the end, it is okay.
It's okay because I tell myself. In order to convince myself....
The convincing takes time. A lot of time.... More time than I probably have to live this life.
So this is why I keep plugging away with my poetry... I want to get caught up with this stuff so that I can leave something behind. Hundreds of years from now they can read my words and my words will be the only thing left of me. Maybe descendants... Maybe. I might not even have that by then.
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