"All the worldapos;s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurseapos;s arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistressapos; eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannonapos;s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipperapos;d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."
-Shakespeare
i understand that "my family knows whatapos;s best for me".
they donapos;t.
my aunt called to see how my sister was doing (she was in the hospital) and then told me that i needed to learn how to have conversations. She told me i was old enough to be able to carry a conversation with someone.
i canapos;t fucking do it. I try, but i canapos;t. Iapos;m
not comfortable with myself, therefore, i am
not comfortable conversing with someone and having that chance for them to pry me open and tear out my insides.
i donapos;t talk to someone unless i absolutely have to, and thatapos;s fine with me.
i donapos;t get hurt that way, and neither does anyone else.
i donapos;t understand why my family always wants me to talk to people, and do things with people.
i mean seriously, if this is the way i want to live my life, itapos;s the way iapos;m going to live it as soon as i get out of this house.
i feel as though i canapos;t be myself around my family, or any adults, really. I can barely be myself around my "friends".
i was thinking, whatapos;s the
true meaning of a friend?
someone you can count on?
sure.
someone who you can laugh with?
sure.
someone who understands you?
no.
no one will ever understand you, no matter how open and revealing you are.
they can say they know how youapos;re feeling, or they know what itapos;s like, but they really donapos;t.
thereapos;s never the exact same circumstances, no matter what.
maybe theyapos;re "sympathizing" with you about a family problem, but will it ever be the exact same problem?
who knows, maybe you were just a bit closer to one person, than they were.
i think itapos;s ridiculous that people can go sit on couches and pay someone to ask them questions when all they have to do is search deep inside themselves anyway to find it.
honestly, itapos;s pathetically ignorant of people.
if your life comes down to sitting around having "professionals" ask you about your childhood so they can find some "cure" for you, get out of the house, go somewhere quiet with no one, or nothing else around you, and think.
thinking opens so many doors that you never knew were there.
i think more than most of my peers do probably, simply because i donapos;t waste time on petty things like talking.
hence why i donapos;t want to be something my family wants me to be simply because society puts it that way.
whatever, iapos;m out.
xoxo,
katie.
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