My Curse

I have a huge confession to make. I don’t do it on purpose. It’s completely by accident. I have not chosen to be like this. I am cursed.

I am told that I’m the kind of person who stands up for what I believe in. I’ve been admired for confronting things head on. People think that I’m brave for saying what’s on my mind. The truth is, peeps, I’m a weakling. I’m afraid. There are times when my nerves – frayed by the stress of my actions – keep me up at night, fill my head with vivid dreams and make me lose my appetite. There are times when I just want to kick myself and tell myself to shut the fuck up and get over it. But I can’t. I am cursed.

I cannot just let things go. I cannot let others win simply to appease them. I cannot let people get away with thinking that I can be intimidated; that they have broken me. When something is on my mind, I have to get it off. Otherwise it eats me up inside. It keeps me up at night and fills my head with vivid dreams. I am consumed by it. I have to do something. It is not a matter of rocking the boat, or needing to be right. I am not trying to be a shit disturber. I will self-destruct if I don’t deal with it. I am cursed.

I try to keep myself in check. I try to be friendly, but honest; nice, but honest; respectful, but honest. Sometimes, people just can’t handle it. People put on a brave face, pretend that nothing is wrong and ignore the truth. I am often misunderstood, some people perceive me as having ill-intentions and sometimes people see me as nothing more than a loud-mouth. I am what I am. I am cursed.

Photo by Rickydavid via Flickr.

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