why am i perceived?

capital letters don't fit my aesthetic

i wish i could be as eloquent as a dove. i wish i could fly around peacefully, observing from afar. instead, i am a moth. an annoying fucking pest that’s ugly to most and you just can’t get rid of.

however, upon closer inspection, i am beautiful. i have wings and i can fly and flutter and im delicate to the touch, so please don’t break me.

maybe i’m a parrot instead. i’m loud and annoying but i’m fucking colourful and free and fuck you for assuming i was anything lesser than A FUCKING PARROT.

lets get to the real shit: i’m not a fucking animal. i wish life was that simple. instead, i am human, trying to get through the same shit as everyone in this fucked up world.

it’s suffocating and no i’m not talking about the earths pollution, i’m talking about perception. how do i stop caring? why do i care what fucking susan from corporate thinks about me? why do i want to be perceived in a certain way?

do you think i’m funny, smart, stupid, ugly, hot, sexy, raging, furious, atrocious and all the other fucking adjectives?

i want to rip apart your brain and extract every single fucking thought you’ve had about me because fuck even if it hurts i want to know what you’re thinking.

maybe in another life i’m a mind reader. life would be so much more simple, because if you thought i was loud, maybe i’d be quieter, if you thought i was ugly, maybe i would be prettier.

however, this can’t be possible, unless marty mcfly discovers mind reading instead of time travel (technically it was doc but i can’t be bothered going into the specifics…)

so instead, i learn to be comfortable with myself. i learn to love myself because maybe no one will ever love me. i don’t care what fucking jack from maths thinks about my makeup because jack knows jackshit about makeup (do you see what i did there)

love yourself, because at the end of the day, you’re the only constant in a world of ever-changing variables.