you abandoned your inner child,
because at some early point in life you believed you didn’t have what it took to raise, protect or provide for it. Society then functioning as a means of foster care, you did it because you thought you had to, because you thought it was best. But you are an adult…
“Chances are the world doesn’t give a fuck about your plan. Chances are the world is gonna serve you up lovely irregardless of your plan….I’m trying to figure out how can I gain enough compassion to like, forgive myself for all the anger I have at failing, forgive myself for all the times I didn’t have the courage to do whatever I felt my standards were…y’know because we’re all human. We’re not perfect. We are going to disappoint. We have been taught that by being intolerant of yourself…that this is somehow going to get more out of you…There’s nothing more heartbreaking than watching someone still try to lay the whip on themselves when there’s no bare piece of flesh that isn’t scarred….And so for me what I’ve discovered is now that my back looks like Passion of the Christ is that, like, I’ve discovered that for me, my thing is just forgiving myself. Because I’m not gonna live up to whatever it is. I will falter and I will die, like all of us, and the courage that is required is not to be awesome. The courage that is required is how to be human.”
I just whispered “don’t be a penis” to a thing I’m painting.
A piece of me always dies a bit every winter; but this spring I’m afraid I won’t be coming back to life.
“I keep wondering, how many people do you need to be, before you can become yourself.”
There’s so much hurt and terribleness and weirdness that happens to everyone in their lives and the more time that goes by and the more pain that accumulates all makes it so hard to interact with/have any sort of healthy connection with another person and I think about all of the people I have…