As stupid as it looks, I will probably get something like this.
I love things that contradict each other, but still hold a happy union. Love & Hate. Night & Day. Sunshine & Rain. Like this tattoo. Other than the awesome fact that it glows under black light and has two halves, I feel like the little scraggly cartoon represents me in a way. It’s not a very reasonable ink and it’s super goofy.
A lot of people say I’m happy. Bubbly. Funny. Friendly. I’m an extrovert that society welcomes. That society adores. That society accepts. But I’m not very normal. I’m not who you see. I rarely have logical explanations and I’m pretty sure my rash actions are ridiculous. The cliche that, “nobody understands me” is an incredible understatement. Out of the billions of people in the world, there is only one that has ever gotten close - and still, there are times when she struggles to understand me.
Because I don’t understand myself. I usually don’t make sense because I think opposite thoughts. I contradict my decisions and my actions. I don’t even know if that is true. I don’t have much common sense and I am semi-awkward to say the least. I say things I mean that are mean. And I say things that I don’t mean, while screaming at myself all the same. I think things I don’t want to think. I don’t dream about things I want to hope for. I don’t know what I’m thinking most of the time, but my mind wanders on and on and on. People usually don’t know what I’m saying and most take me the wrong way. But do I even have a right way? I forget what is required of me. I forget that the world needs me to have a filter.
Sometimes, I feel like I am broken. Like a defected iPhone or a glitchy game, nobody who tries to figure me out can really get what’s going on. My coding is off, my programming haywire. I become unacceptable. Useless. Confusing. Garbage.
There are some that believe only the introverted are misunderstood. I don’t think I believe that. Because in this messed up world of mine, I feel alone. Quiet. Scared. I may be labeled as an extrovert, but that is not who I am. I don’t even know who I am. In this little space inside my head, I hide part of myself that nobody else can see. The part that doesn’t understand. The part that doesn’t make sense. The part that makes me insane.
I’m not very normal.
Submitted by: jennybaby