i am an emotional creature

Everyone seems to have a certain way they want you to behave. I have been thinking a long time of what it means to please. To please, to embody the wish or will of somebody other than yourself. To please the fashion setters, we starve ourselves. To please boys, we push ourselves when we aren’t ready. To please the popular girls, we end up acting mean to our best friends. To please our parents, we become insane over achievers. If you are trying to please, how do you take responsibility for your own needs? How do you even know what your own needs are? What do you have to cut off in yourself in order to please others? Pleasing people makes everything murky. We loose track of ourselves. We stop uttering declaratory sentences. We stop directing our lives. We wait to be rescued. We forget what we know. We make everything okay rather than real.

Everyone is born with this awakeness, this open hearted have to eat it, taste it, know it, defy it. Then the “grown-ups” come with their rules, their directions. They teach you how to make yourself less so everyone feels more comfortable. They teach you not to stand out. They get you to behave.

Here’s what I’m telling you:

. Everyone’s making everything up
. Stand out
. There is no one in charge except for those who pretend to be
. No one is coming
. No on is going to rescue you
. Or mind read your needs
. Always fight back
. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been
. Sleep out alone under the stars
. Learn how to drive a stick shift
. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of never coming back
. Say no when you don’t want to do something
. Say yes if your instincts are strong
. Even if everyone around you disagrees
. Decide whether you want to be liked or admired
. Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you’re doing here
. Believe in kissing
. Fight for tenderness
. Care as much as you do
. Cry as much as you want
. Insist the world be theater
. And love the drama
. Take your time
. Move as fast as you do, as long as its your speed

Ask yourself these questions:

- Why am I whispering when I have something to say?
- Why am I adding a question mark at the end of all of my sentences?
- Why am I apologizing every time I express my needs?
- Why am I hunching over?
- Starving myself when I love food?
- Pretending it doesn’t mean much to me
- Hurting myself when I mean to scream?
- Why am a waiting
- Whining
- Pining
- Fitting in?

You know the truth:
Sometimes it does hurt that much
Horses can feel love
Your mother wanted more than that
Its easier to be mean than smart
But that isn’t who you are.