"In your room doing nothing but staring,
At flickering screens
Streets are empty,
But still you can hear
Joy of children turning to tears.
Disease hides around every corner,
Wait for the moment to heal
Wait for God, want his touch, want to feel.
It's the end of the world,
The end of the world.
Take this pill it will make you feel dizzy,
And then give you wings.
Soon boy you're falling to sleep
Without nightmares, without any fears.
If you wake up in hell or in heaven
Tell the angels we're here,
Waiting below for a dream,
Here in the garden of sin."
At the beginning of last year, when I was seeing my therapist (Goodness so far the best thing happened to me since 1998 (1998 was rad, and no I was NOT born in '98) I'd say) , this one thing was the hardest for me to swallow and practice. That "I AM THE ONE WHO LETS MYSELF GET HURT BY THE WORDS OF OTHERS. I AM THE ONE WHO GIVES MYSELF THE CONSENT TO GET HURT", when they offend me, especially when they offend me "for my own good" and/or they are not as "evolved" as it takes to be considerate to diversity.
I still can't deal with aggressiveness. Communicating assertively to aggressive motherfuckers demands initial aggressiveness itself. Something I haven't attained yet. I guess that's why the "focus on the good things" thing don't work on me too well. Since inception of my life, slowly the "not good things" are consuming up the spaces that I breathe in. It's getting harder to focus on the good things.
Nah. This shit is not for me.
#blackfield #songart #defeat #enduringaggressiveness #aggressiveenvironment #anxiety #OCD #badtimes #sadtimes #intjart #intpart #ocdart #anxietyart #sadart #badart