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And You Cheat At Yahtzee by Ray Printer Friendly

Honestly, there is no honesty. We talk of bonds, or of friendship, or of love, but I'd sell you out in a second and youíd do the same to me.

Me, with my fake confessions of heartache and healing, you with your crybaby silences that last for two weeks when you donít hear what you want from me.

We arenít who we say we are, we arenít who we want to be. We are posers; liars in a world made for liars, and populated by better liars than we.

I give up.

Not surrender, not to you and your false sense of superiority.

Not to you and your hurt feelings and naked need.

Not to you and your crocodile tears and shark-teeth emotions.

Not to you and your ill-conceived reality.

Not surrender.

I give up.

I give up on you and your desperate pleas for attention, your pathetic desire, and your impossible standards.

Iím not who you want, and itís time you understand that or fuck off. Go find someone more like the person you want to find, or go find someone who is more easily molded. Go find a broken mirror to stare back, different from you, but the same. Go find everything you want to blame, and ignore that it is only you.

It is not me. That is not me.

Understand or donít. It doesnít matter.

I give up.

Not surrender.

Take your melodramatic assumptions, your theories, the issues you have assigned me. Take the identity you have assigned me, and go away.

The relationship we have:

I give up.

The lonely nights shared between two imposters:

I give up.

The miles of deception, the hours of self-gratification, you can keep it. You can bottle it up and share it with others or keep it for yourself. You can shake it out at night and examine it on your blanket, and wonder why it smells like spoiled everything.

I give up.

I have my own flaws to worry over, and my own worlds to change. I have my own life to live, or not to live, depending on how Iím feeling at the time.

I have my own identity, and it will never be the one you manufactured.

I give up.

I give up on us.

Because I will never give up on myself.

posted 12/21/08

Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-12-22 05:08:08

Because I have received questions: I wrote this one day while I was at school. I had several classes all in a row last semester, with ten or twenty minutes in between, and all of the classrooms were right next to each other. So while I was waiting, I would look at the people around me, and then make shit up about them. One day I saw two people sitting on a benchóa guy and a chick. She was on her cell phone (headset), and he was listening to his music player. For just a second, it looked like she was talking animatedly to him and he was just ignoring the shit out of her. In my head, I made up this story about how she was planning this big thing for their one year anniversary, and he was planning on breaking up with her. This is all that ever got written. Itís not about meóeverything is fine. Thanks for your concern.

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