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Array
(
[sid] => 141116
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => About Me:
[time] => 2008-03-21 14:20:35
[hometext] => My family is in the real estate business :]
[bodytext] => I am a boarded up building. My panels busted open, the rusted nails stick out slightly; ready to scrape your skin and hook into you. I hope you've had your tetnus. The shingles cascade down, hit you on top your head at any given moment. And they are the tears that erupt just as suddenly. I am not the thing I once was; but aren't we all? Change happens, no way of preventing its creeping within. It is said that I am a pessimist. I give no argument. Though I have a contradictory thought to every statement. It is said that run down buildings, they get renovated. Someone stops at its cracked boundaries and says; Well, that looks a mess. I believe I can clean it up, and make it good. I will make its ugly insides scrubbed away, and make it mirror all of my attributes. They make their bid on the ratty old thing, come in, and clean house; no pun intended. They trash the old photos, wash away the dirt that's been saved up over the years. And sure, people will nod and appraise this hard work they do in fixing this near condemned home. But what of it? It is no longer the vacant beauty it once was, or ... was that beauty? Maybe the lies the stories I read sold to me, aren't meant for me. Maybe not every building learns to be a home. Some just stay houses. And people will occupy them for a time, but they will move onto bigger, and better, more satisfactory things. There isn't someone for everyone. Thats how hermits and bums come to be. And I could settle for some sometimes happy, sometimes knowing it isnt the one thing that "clicks", that fulfills me entirely. I could, but thats not in my nature. I press for more, whether there is anything more to be had or not. I might complain and whine nonstop about how things don't go my way, well that's because, truth be told, nothing is perfect. And I want perfect. So sue me. No, not let's hold hands in public; have cute, curly headed children, and we have matching bathrobes. I get the boy, he gets me. I remember to send out thank you cards and cook delicious meals. No, most certainly not. I have my own idea of perfection, and though it might be absurd, and slightly unconventional, it is still out of reach. So I won't ask you to forgive my panics, my spazz moments, or my depressions. You don't have to tolerate me, I will let you go if it eases your mind. I will shift and shake, but make my nails in your skin set you free. To be happy, I need others acceptance, as sad as I have become, I believe this is so. No strong beast here, just a hollow shack, wishing somebody would move in, and not want to sweep out the bad memories, maybe to just... Come inside and warm me up, even when December rolls around and I have no heater. Don't be misled, for all that I dont have, I have people that do exceed all my expectations. For all the many angles, sides to me, all have been tainted by my negativities. Maybe misery is my thing, if so, I will do my best to excel at this emotion. Until I learn differently, until then. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 221 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Marrs [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 6 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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