Dear Diary: Isn’t It a Gem?

I haven’t seen Gem for a few months now. We used to be very close. To the point where we secretly hated each other but still made it a point to see each other every day. I liked them as a friend, but it was tiring for me to worry about if I was saying the right thing or not. It seems some friendships are built on competition, but only one side knows they’re competing. It was exhausting, but that was what made Gem shine. They always needed to feel that something about them was better than everyone in the room. If they didn’t feel it, they had a handy supply of snide remarks about close friends to get people to look at the person less than they did before, if even. Humans tend to base their opinions on others based on what someone has said about them; good, bad, or indifferent.

We all do it; it’s why we love the news so much.  We tend to base our opinions based on the emotion or information we receive the report. The fact of the matter is, we all pick and choose things that serve our interest in our line of thought. We tend to translate that when we get details on people, we are about to meet through someone.  It’s up to you if you sway to formulate your own opinion about a person or keep building a personality profile based on what someone else had said about them. Gem had an interestingly vindictive, sweet but degrading way of describing people she felt insecure about to others.  Their end goal was the same: As long as they thought the victim was blindsided by a cold introduction to their “other group of friends,” they won the campaign trail. It’s hard not to feel sorry for Gem in a way that you can feel sorry for a thief that steals bread to feed their family. Gem is pathetic, but they’re only trying to feel like the cool kid they never were when this kind of deplorable behavior was accepted, yet quickly corrected.

Gem needed social capital more than life. Gem lived their terms based on the focus group they were stalking for praise. It was nice to see them crash and burn by their own faulty designs, sometimes. Other times, it was a mess dealing with being chosen for them to sacrifice the semblance of friendship to make people like them more. Gem was my friend, but they’re tragic as a friend because they can’t stand on their own two feet without someone validating their toes.

What also annoyed me about Gem was their constant mode of competition. I am for everyone finding someone to compete with, as long as everyone knows they’re fighting. It’s horrible when you’re the last to know that you were in completion and you lost. Gem hated when they didn’t feel they were the center of attention. They never quit reminding us of their complete, historical archives of lovers that came for the party but never seemed to stay for the cake. All of Gem’s tales were similar of whirlwind affairs with someone from nowhere that ends with feeling the sour of severe embarrassment as their lover parades some other being as their new found partner that’s more important than the moon and stars. I had to appreciate the resilience Gem displayed every single time there was egg on their face. I have to acknowledge they know what it means to show grace under pressure because heaven knows, everyone would see my rage if that ever happened to me. Gem really knew how to keep it together. Good for them. Gem always lamented that old lovers downgraded after them, but that was laughable to me. I guess that was a messy thing to do, take some heat and subtle insults for front row seats to Gem’s payment from the universe for the fruits of their labor.

Now, Gem is an attractive person. They meet all of the requirements of the standard of beauty evident by the scores of lovers.  Although their public melts were refreshing during a hot peak of me being annoyed by their subtle insults. The fact of the matter has they had the hands to fire in the field.  As much as they wanted to claim they’re not the one to put their looks out as the only thing they like about themselves. That’s all Gem did! Well, once in a while, you would get the stores of other people praising their looks, but, it’s all the same story structure.  The main thing evident is Gem cared about what they looked like because they enjoyed the praises they got for their looks. They always felt terrible because the divide between their praise and our scorn was great. Gem was happy that they weren’t as ugly as everyone around them. They felt a firm comfort in the idea they stood out. But heaven forbid they allow gnomes to see that.

 

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Rising

Rising like the sun

I linger for the means

The heat, intense but soft

I can’t think to breath

Like devil reading poetry

I’m burning in the dream

A vivid imagination

I can’t seem to see.

 

You hold me with your glance

—–A coded romance

Unwind me with your time

No fight

I feel you the trance.

I know i’m all yours

 

You’ll never show me I’m all yours

 

All that I am

Is all that you need

A twinkle despite

The lust we can’t stand to please

Secret contact passes

forget the sneak-look masses.

 

We show, we’re all ours.

sensual greed.

You Thought

You thought I was done; I felt I was done too.

The lies are spun, well I turned around too.

 

the spark was gone and brought on your wrath too

Your feelings were hurt, well I hind mine in clues too.

 

It’s over now, well it’s over for me too

you’re not worried about it, well confide to blue you’re through

I’m Not Ready

I’m still not ready, and here I am advertising show time. I invited everyone to come in and watch my big debut. I have yet to run my lines clearly and go to rehearsals. I jumped the gun thinking it was time to make my name on the city stage. I jumped and decided to drop my hat in a vast production I am not ready for. im bearly even qualified.

I don’t have a good habit of learning from my mistakes, i believe each time is always going to be diffrent. I keep getting shown the same senarios i don’t get my cosimic lesson to move along from because i ignore the signs that tell me i have a lesson to be elarned. i awasy want to put by ego first. But I keep repeating the same “jumping in too soon” mistakes. I always hope the risk would be more worthwhile than the last, but the last was a lesson that I refused to take.

Well, here I am on stage half prepared, but have to make the most of it.  Because I am here. I am here in front of a significant number of people adverting something I am not ready for. However, the show must go on, and I have to make my mark now. I told myself the time is now.

Here goes nothing.

12:03 A.M.

I still won’t see

I still won’t hear

The silence request you don’t want me near

It’s not the tone I don’t know

It’s the message I won’t take home.

It’s been a while, it still feels sudden.

You disappeared and you felt clear.

I still rip out like it was near.

I couldn’t take the hint the end was there.

As time gets longer I am more weighed down.

It wasn’t right when you were around

But it felt right when you were around

Like that time we went to town.

That vow you gave, to take me down

That I won’t get hurt, well, look at me now

I still say it’s sudden, and I’m all alone

Although your silence lets me know.

This is me, living my fear

I will live with this burden for many years.

I can’t forget about you still,

It’s like lightening and it gives me chills

Forgetting about you is against my fractured will.

I block out to the nuanced tones

 How your silence is your message:

“Move on and leave me alone”

With your new partner—your love in a new time zone.

While I grow haggard, desperately calling out to an empty home.

8:07 P.M.

“Get over it!” is what she says out loud when her brain overloads with thoughts. She can’t forget about the things she should have said and the things she should have kept to herself. All she really wants is a redo to curse people out when she felt powerless and bullied into dignified silence. She is usually up all night going over fake, triumphant speeches in her head. The way she would let them have it if she had to do it all again.

Deep down she feels silly for not jumping when she knew the ship was going under. The times she never listened to her intuition when it was begging her to be herself. The fake relationships kept up for appearances, her logic knew she should have left alone. However, she also has blame in it too. She stayed in the planned destruction, knowing the kinds of animals she was training. But see, she wanted to be entertained. She wanted things to report back to any gossiping hen that would listen.

She didn’t want to make a change because that would be too hard. Instead of letting go and getting on. She knew what to say and do in order to retell victimhood stories filled with unbeknownst deceit and betrayal to any blathering hen that would let her belt it out. It is ironic she is upset when the chaos goes her way. She is in denial, she is a foolish woman who always plays the victim; remember what I said about people who gladly walk in the fire? She’s the kind to let things burn, as long as she can cry on the news how she lost everything including her lighter.

Holiday

Matt hit Kate yet again. This time, in front of friends and family over for the holiday.

Kate on her last straw grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed Matt for each guest present.

She stabbed him fourteen times.

She added a slice to his throat for luck then continued to hand out presents to her silently mortified guest.

“Get into the Holiday Spirit!” Kate bellowed.

 

11:22 p.m.

I need to know where this is going.

I touch that love has died.

 

I need to know where your love is flowing.

I hate the change in your tide.

 

You are my lover, still.

Even though I’m in disguise.

 

You are my lover, kind.

Even when you force me to hide.