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Confessional

Notte

Supernova
Joined
Jan 10, 2009
I want to tear down the bases of society. I want to show people that what isn’t “politically correct” doesn’t mean that it makes something wrong. I want to be untamed and unbound as not just a human, but as a strong woman. I want life to give me something more, I want to see and have a personal experience with what is good and what is bad, so that I can know all the difference and see the grass on the other side. I want to dance around naked through life and live in what some religions call sin. I want the ability to know that people love me for me, even with all of my imperfections, because they are what make me beautifully me.

I want to be the poet, the dancer, the chaotic minded-lost philosopher, the lover, the best friend, the greatest aunt, the understanding sister, the complicated daughter. I want to be passionate in everything that I do and never regret anything that I have done or anyone that I love or have loved. I want to love someone without a reason and not be afraid to tell them for fear that loving them will make me lose them. I want to be free, in my darkest moments, in the brightest light, I want to always remain me. I want to dance along to the rhythm that life has given me - the easy and the complicated.

I don't want to be a stereotypical girl in a stereotypical world; I am everything that is wrong and right. I am yin and yang, alive but dead inside, hot and cold to my very core, I'm silent but I'm screaming. I am awake, but still lie dreaming. I am a walking contradiction and I am not sorry for being me.


Now tell me, Cheri, what is your confession?
It doesn't have to be a confession of sins.
 
I wish I would've taken the chance, even though it went completely against my morals.

I lied to one of my oldest, and loyal friends, last year. I don't think I can ever forgive myself for doing it. I still can't believe that he believed me. Or maybe he just didn't want to admit the truth, like I didn't want to.
 
I wish I could let my inhibitions go. Every time I try though, I just can't. Every moral lesson I've ever had screams inside my head until I give up trying.

I guess my real confession is: I want to be free-willed and uninhibited, I want to break all the rules and love it.

Probably a lame confession...but hey.
 
Aye.. It would be nice to break out of the shy shell and actually talk to someone and get to know them. That would be a huge step for me. Then take the next step into telling someone how I feel for real. It's chaos in my head, so many things to say yet I can't. Makes me feel weak minded and as if i'll just remain alone my whole life. Using the net to make myself feel a little better but never enough. The way it'd feel to finally go up to someone and randomly start a conversation. Or even to finally meet someone i've talked with online and hope that I can get them to be a real friend and perhaps succeed in having more with someone.
 
Sometimes, I wish that just once, when I'm out of the makeup I could work up the courage to flirt with a woman.
Never before have I been able to do that.

I also wish that I had the drive to follow through with my college education. Sadly, not being motivated causes much difficulty.
 
Ellen.....
I wish I could see her......I think about her everyday.
I miss her touch, her smile, and her laugh.

I smile when she laughs.
I love making her laugh.
And she told me she loved it when I smiled.

I remember the first time we kissed.......
After the date was over.
Laying in the dark.
Half asleep, I cradled her in my arms.
Her hand on my cheek.
I stirred and kissed her hand.
She moved closer.
Her lips found mine.

Weeks later. My sister-in-law decided she didn't like her, and told me she didn't want me to see her. I told her I wouldn't out of respect and the fact that I live in her house right now, but I informed her that I was still talk to her when I moved back to the U.S.....A few days ago I looked through my wallet....I had Ellens cell, home, address, and e-mail all written down on a card....when I looked at the card, I saw that everything had been scribbled out with a pen....the only time my wallet isn't with me is when I leave it in my room because Im home there in the room or in the shower.

I dont know when it happened, but I still haven't said anything.
I want to say fuck it and just go and see her but she was told never to talk to me agian......
lol I snuck out one night and went to her place to tell her what was really going on......She cried when I told her. I told her I would wait, and she told me she would too....

We secretly talk through e-mail lol....and my sister in law has no idea.....
I still want to see her though.....
I wish I was more Headstrong.
 
I wish I was able to pick up the nerve to fight my parents. And to stop being such a procrastinator.
 
I hate it when someone assumes they're on good terms with me, and me being me, I don't tell them to fuck off like I really want to.
Or when they go, "But I thought we were friends?" It secretly annoys the shit out of me.
 
Every day when I wake up, regardless of if it's a good day or a bad day, I quietly hope to die.
It's not an active, suicidal thing.
But a genuine hope.
And I've been like this for nearly nine years now.
I am only just now seriously considering perusing help.
 
*returns the hug*

I'm not a sad person.
I smile a lot and laugh often and I get through my days same as anyone else.
It was only just recently that it was pointed out that my constant preoccupation with my own death going on in the background of my thoughts is...not healthy?
 
I wish there werent so many holes in my memories. I wish I wasnt so afraid when I fight. I wish my first instinct wasnt to kill my opponent. I too have a preoccupation with death, but mine isnt just with mine, its with lots. I let myself go one time and I found myself almost killing my best friend. I want to destroy things but at the same time I want to treasure them...I wish I knew I was sane...I used to tell myself I was little if I was good enough and God loved me enough maybe my father would love me too..
 
I wish that when someone hurts me, that I would confront them about it, that I would scream and yell and possibly even cry to them about it. But no, I either disappear from their lives altogether until I'm completely indifferent to them or I put an a fake smile and act like everything is fine. I want to have the ability to fight with them about it, to beat into them what I'm feeling, but I am accepting of the pain and I rarely give it back to them - even though I can be highly vindictive if I get screwed over the wrong way.

I desire the ability to know that all of my emotions are real, where I don't always have to have them justified in my mind. I'm afraid to listen to this damnable bleeding heart of mine, because it only leads me to destruction, even though I know I can't stop it from its constant beating or ungodly amount of caring. I can tell them apart, but most of the time, I try to block them so that I do not get hurt even worse then if I completely let them go. I want to be free, but I'm afraid to even be free with myself, and this little boxed world that I have - I want to tear it apart, but know that I have to keep certain parts of myself caged for fear of what would happen if I let them free. Like, I don't know, killing a person maybe? I have this whole blood lust inside of me, not only a desire, but a need that is almost like a physical ache to ruin the object of my anger and demise. I want to tear them completely apart and make their world come crashing down. I fear the rage inside of me, I fear the love inside of me, for I know that they could both lead me to my ruin.

I want to rip apart the rules set upon us by religions and show them that its alright to be different, to be outside of the trippy little hypocritical occult that they have started. Rules where a person isn't allowed to be free to love who they will or able to be free as a human being should be. I want to have a strong belief and stop doubting everything.

I want to stop people from being able to read me, but I've always been an open book.
 
I wish that I can open up and be more trusting. I have been living behind masks for so long that they have become a part of me. I want to be able to put them away, never need them, but behind my strong front, I'm just a weak, insecure guy. And I pick them up and pretend that everything is fine.
 
I adore stuffed animals, medium to huge ones - all types of cuddly. I am also susceptible to rubber duckies.
Although, at the same time, I'm obsessed with whips, crops, and any other "torture" device that one could most likely think of when its sexually inclined.
 
I wish that I could maintain the energy and motivation I had when I was younger, instead of being ground down by age and experience, not so much in my thoughts and beliefs as in my motivations and desire to actually get things done. I haven't written anything significant in months, haven't completed anything in at least a year, if not two, and I hate that but can't seem to lift a finger to do anything about it. This leads to self-loathing and shame, and propels me into further procrastination.

I regret that I don't have the courage to push for what I want, while at the same time, I'm ashamed of when that desire brings me into conflict with existing commitments and responsibilities. I'm saddled with regret for either doing something or not doing something; different regrets, but regret either way. Actually, since I'm unlikely ever to have the opportunity to fulfill those desires, I guess it's only one type of regret, but then that brings on a sadness that I'll never, ever get to experience what I dream about.

At the same time, I wonder if there's something morally wrong with me that I think I could be okay with betraying the trust of those close to me, provided I could get away with it. As someone who has believed, and still believes, that he is a fairly moral man, I have a big blind spot when it comes to certain topics (i.e. those I dream about), and I'm okay with that. And the fact that I'm okay with that is what bothers me if I let myself think about it.

I almost wish I had self-destructive feelings. At least those would be easier to manage, I suspect.
 
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