That despite my extremely confrontational personality, I like to avoid things.
This realization is slowly unraveling everything I previously perceived to “know” about myself.
I am beginning to understand that life is the perpetual tear down and reconstruct of the “self”.
As I realize that the battle for self-actualization is far from over, I grimace.
This whole aging process is difficult…. Just when you think you know it all, life points out that you know nothing at all.
Anyway, so today I learned that I am a runner… I run from happiness because somehow, in my dark and twisty world, I believe that I do not deserve to be happy.
So when things are too good to be true…. I wreck them.
I wreck them and then crawl into the safety of my own little world… I waste hours studying the pattern of the paint on the wall and drift off into an immense fog of thought. I lose sight of what it means to actually live and become content with the tunnels of my mind. I write because when I speak I cannot be honest with myself.
That is, if I even know who or what myself actually is.
Avoidance is the easy path. I have always snickered at those who run from life…. And now here I am, one of the once labeled “weak”.
It is a very grim realization. I’m not as tough as I thought I was. I actually have emotions. I’m incapable of parading around pretending like I don’t give a fuck.
So rather than admit that I’m not an impenetrable fortress, I run.
I run fast and far.
And that’s why I always find myself in these strange and sometimes absurd situations.
I place myself there, knowing ill escape again soon.
That’s messed up.