Have you ever seen those old men, sometimes couples, just sitting on their front porches in rickety old chairs, drinking whatever happened to be cold in the fridge? Maybe it is just a South Texas thing, but I am so jealous of those people. They look perfectly at ease, even though the economy is going to shit and their money is being drained into social security that they don’t even use. Their faces contain no trace of stress as they stare at the road. A car going by offers more entertainment than the latest HD, 72 inch, flat screen television. Is it because they were raised in a time void of vile brain nukes? They have by far suffered more than most in our day. Depressions that will never go down in a psychology textbooks, cold wars, and more.
And yet, somehow here I sit in my place of work, thinking, “why doesn’t Bryton have a gun in his closet?” I am so tired of people proclaiming how strong I am. I AM NOT STRONG. I am as weak as they come, although it seems as though I live to make people smile, I don’t have a trace of altruism in my body. So what if I have been abused, used, deceived, and betrayed? I think about it everyday, unlike the strong folk who keep the past where it belongs, in the past.
I have not gotten over anything that has presented a difficulty in my life. In fact, each event sparks a new one. Every day of my life is ruined by past hard times. People tell me to stop living in the past; that I need to change and stop causing them drama, that I am just an obligation. Well, guess what? I believe you all now. I AM just a drama-causing obligation. I am not that calm person on her front porch, watching dust and cars go by at the intersection, where her government-provided house sits. I am the little girl cowering in the corner, relying on everyone else to save her from her own fears and getting upset and hateful when they can’t do anything but sit back and watch it play out over and over until she decides to end it. I am not a hero, friend, or a good person. I am weak; and only the strong survive.
Author notes
Like I said, just an observation...not really a poem.
I forgot what actual day I wrote this on, but it's whatever.
Comments
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I've observed elderly people sitting on thier porches drinking carelessly here in Colorado. Though I'm sure they live simple lives. I felt like you do many times never getting over difficulty found in my past. But now I feel I've grown to be passive to repeated offenses and learn how I can avoid the reaction of dwelling on the past. I don't know your circumstances but I forgive and forget, even though I'm not in the wrong. That helped me get over things, even though it was not easy. I hoped you could take something out of that.
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How did you teach yourself to forgive and forget?
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"People tell me to stop living in the past."
I understand completely.
I know you do.
Not a day goes by that I don't hear this.
But when someone breaks you... it never stops.
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strength... you have been beaten, betrayed, abused... you say you give up, yet you carry on, time after time. don't tell me there is none in you. even the strongest get their asses whooped every now and then. talk to the one(s) you know you can trust and find what you really need to carry on. you don't need to forget the past or "live in the now", just try to see beyond those chains that weigh you down
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Plan of action failed.
Anxiety attack achieved, as well as my name being thrown across the internet.
...new plan in progess. -
I have a full plan of action. It's going to help.
You'll know more about it later.
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Those are some good points. But maybe they can just hide what they feel, because they've lived long enough to know how people take thing's and all that. No one is as strong as you think they are. People are good liar's, but when it come's down to it, we're all weak. We all have something that makes us scared and helpless. We are all human.
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You also have a good point.
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