Drifting back and forth between being and wanting to be an adult and letting certain aspects of my personality settle back into infancy it seems.
“I want to be the girl with the most cake”
I do, I really do want to be the girl with the most cake. I imagine her to be quiet the show stopper. The girl who stops cars, stops sadness, stops death, stops disrespect, demands respect but polite-fully like a nice girl does. What the fuck is a nice girl anyways lol. I do want to be different and I do want to stand out but most days I seem to fade into the abyss that is a man’s world and a world where I see my lack of education and my age as an issue, as a justification for why I may be disliked, not respected, passed up and passed by. The other day I was telling my coworker I felt like some of our other coworkers felt a certain way about my work and I said “my self esteem is so low I an inclined to believe them”. It’s like I am the sidekick in my own day dreams, I simply cannot imagine being the star of the show, even in my dizziest day dreams
I loved Courtney Love back in the day, I mean she wrote the song ‘Doll Parts’ and if you really read the lyrics there is so much left to the imagination; although I am pretty sure she was referring to drugs when she says ‘cake’ but all I think of is myself, as a young little blonde haired girl, pig tails, sitting in a blue fluffy dress on the swings, sad and feeling left out and lost and stuffing my face with a single piece of what I believe may be confetti cake. I can almost taste it….I should be able to taste success or hopefulness but all I see is what I am lacking.
Engaged but no wedding is planned, no talk of children as my clock spins and a new place with a view and here I sit crying into a picture of a piece of success cake, true love cake, partner cake, fulfilled cake…I am not sure how I can be so sad on such a beautiful Seattle day but I am.
-B
