i am my solitary manifestation of insecurity.
every moment that passes that I am unguarded by my own built defense mechanisms i cringe due to the exposure
i am simply everything i'm not
i am my sense of overwhelming innocence
i am my fake sense of childhood
i am closeted
i am scared
i am lonely
it's my fault
i am a sleeping dormant adult
and no one at all
i am the insomniac without a cause
and a dream without a mind
i am my overwhelming sense of boredom with the world
with myself
with everything and everyone
so predictably softly hard
i'm not
me? i'm not
i'll be a child all my life
suppose i'm doomed to it after all
predestined by whatever in my life
the root causes not significant enough to matter
5 comments:
are you left handed by any chance?
adulthood comes when you realize you are less important than you think you are, and accept it. boredom with the world comes when you are focused on yourself. the person in this poem acknowledges that its his fault, at the same time there is so much disdain in his description of the outside world. he so much wants to elevate himself from the rest, create this false sense of individuality, to make everything negative so he can feel better about himself. once again it all goes back to him. this poem does not penetrate a truth beyond his conscious insecurity about himself.
Yes, I'm left handed.
Gender was not quite defined in the piece itself. Why did you default to a male character?
And the overuse of 'I' is the main indication of inward reflection. You're mostly right, but boredom with the world does not always mean self-obsession. Especially because of the line:
'i am my overwhelming sense of boredom with the world
with myself'
In my opinion, adulthood is growing into a matured personality. Adulthood means you're less important than you think you are? *shrug* I don't like that one bit. You're not destined to become a number, you are a number already. You got it tattooed on your forehead when you were born. When you mature, is when you become something else. Something new, a new breed, a new personality. Continuing the generation. You can sure as hell become just like everyone else, or you can grow. And keep on growing. That's the difference between some adults and others. Some people just give themselves up. Focus on something, or someone else. Well, fuck that. In short, of course. I could argue being a common individual all day long. Obviously, I don't share your sentiments is the point.
I shouldn't have assumed the character was male. I was projecting.
The overuse of I does not feel like an indication of inward reflection to me it feels like an intense focus on the self, which can take the form of self- obsession but it doesn't have to.
To me this idea is emphasized in the last sentence- the root cause not significant enough to matter- showing the person's lack of inward reflection, of being able to see the causes implicit in everything they just described- "I am my overwhelming sense of boredom with the world, with myself"
If they took an interest in their self the world and its people would be infinitely interesting.
And I didn't mean adulthood has to do with conformity, I meant it has to do with compromise. And for me accepting compromise comes from a better understanding of life and with that a greater humility.
I don't see the correlation between individuality and importance either. Yes, we are born numbers, but we are also born individuals and then society conforms us. This person seems to stay a child, not because they want to stay an individual, but because they cannot compromise.
Compromise is a waste of time. It creates an unneeded exploitable vulnerability. That dually applies to humility.
'People' in reference to the generic human operations within each member of the species, are generally quite simple. Thus, boring. Since the writer obviously belongs to that subset, they themselves are boring as well.
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