set adrift. no momentum, no direction. a body with no mind.

a heartless apathy.

.

i've given a fair amount of thought to perspective lately. there isn't anything, for me, that can't be managed with an adjustment of perception. where was your head when it happened? if you give it one moment's consideration, where was the person's head that was involved? are you overreacting? how seriously does any of it really affect your day to day? what's fucked as a result? Nothing? Then fucking move on. Even if everything is fucked, why would you want to stay in that moment? I have a great difficulty understanding the dwell of things. It already happened. It's done. Why not move past it? Why not grow? I also don't understand why you'd make the complaint without making the attempt at resolution. Did you just want to say it? Do you want sympathy for your inconvenience? I carry a lot. I will always listen. I will always be honest, my filters don't work well and I will probably say the wrong thing, but it's who I am. I will tell you why I think this way and I will keep your secrets safe. I will always have your back. I care deeply for those close to me. We live one life at a time. We exist in one timeline. This is all we have, right now. Shouldn't it be the best it can be? Every moment is precious. I don't care what you think of me. I don't care what he thinks of me. I don't care what she thinks, either. Once upon a time, I did. "I no longer have the patience for certain things". It's the perfect summation.

When I was in 6th grade, a boy in my class was dared to snap my bra. He did and it garnered laughter and praise from the ones that dared him. As it happened, I stood up quickly and spun to face him. My reaction and the look on my face must have taken him by surprise because he shrunk back and blushed hard. The feeling that took me over is one I will never forget, and I believe it was right then that I decided no one would ever inspire that feeling in me again. I felt hot and sweaty with embarrassment and shame, my heart raced and my head swam. I left the classroom and cried in the hallway. My teacher came out to console me, but it didn't matter. She made the boy apologize, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered, he had taken something from me. Something I couldn't identify at the time, something I didn't know how to embrace, but something I knew I couldn't let go. I was a young girl and I learned in that moment the power of self.