Time.

Scrolling through my Instagram feed, seeing the faces of those that were such irrelevant parts of social gatherings, reminiscing the memories I made with those whom I would now call “strangers”.

It’s surreal how I can track back my life to the times when happiness was as simple as allowing yourself to not over analyze… or well not knowing what the fuck that was. The plethora of mistakes, accidents, and innocent errors a child can make still astound me to this day. How? How was it so easy? How could I just spend hours gaming and forget about reality? How could that innocent and simple soul become this?

Recently, I’ve been called an asshole by legions of past encounters… and my response? “Being honest requires some degree of asshole-iness” Maybe it’s me who’s not being honest. Maybe the world just isn’t ready to confront who they are. Maybe my blunt statement of who they appear to be is something they just don’t want to accept. Maybe I should just shut up, and lose the minuscule sense of identity I have left, and become one of them: artificial.

I’m confused… all my life I’ve been told that being honest is paramount to being a dependable person. Yet I’m a pathological liar… but I’m pretty sure that those that know I care, know that I’m more dependable and genuine than the average friend; or at least I hope they think that.

Maybe my bluntness comes of as arrogance, or even condescension; but it’s not meant to. All I want is stability, and yes that means I’d kind of like my dearest to have a strong sense of identity, to balance out the absence of mine.

So I apologize. I am sorry. My selfish need for stability has made my desire for a sense of identity a demand for others around me to have one. I do understand that people are lost, and they need help. Yet, rather than being helpful, supportive, and understanding; I become an asshole.

I’d like to help, I genuinely would. Even though I may not be the best suited, I promise I would still try my utmost in assisting you in anyway you need, in anyway it takes for you to see how beautiful I think you are if you just delete the image you have of what people need you to be, and see who you really are: immaculate.