Pointless Heart-on-Sleeveness Shit

Please. Can we be done? I want to be done. I don't have the energy to do this anymore. You've worn me thin, and I know the next time we talk I'm going to snap. I'm tired. I'm torn. I don't have the energy to cry, even. If I did, I would.

I don't get angry at people. It's not who I am. I get annoyed, and I fume, and I write poetry and terrible music. I. Don't. Get. Angry. And I don't get overly emotional. Any strong feelings I get are transferred into my music and my writing. I rarely get so emotional that I cry. It just doesn't happen.

You, however, have ultimately forced me to anger. I've tried my best to ignore it, but you just keep trying to force feed me the same shit over and over and over and you just DON'T GET IT. You try and convince me of things, but you fail to understand that shoving things down my throat is only pushing me farther away.

...For those of you not in the know (although if you're reading this, you probably know by now), life has fucked with me lately. I've been thinking things. Questioning things that I don't feel comfortable questioning. And I've decided that until I can figure out where my place in life is, I'm stepping back from things. As my friends, I hope that you can understand that I have the right to make my own decisions in life. I want to be my own person, and not someone who lives their life regurgitating ideas that other people have fed me through the years. And I'm trusting you guys to respect that, and not tear me apart for it. So, that said, let's lay some stuff out on the table. This isn't Katelynn in a nutshell. This is Katelynn--her mind, her emotions, her inner workings. Everything.

SO, THEN:

I'm shy. Insecure. Emotional. I keep the bad stuff inside and wear masks from day to day, and it gets me through the wild rollercoaster called life. But there's only so much you can sweep under a rug. There's only so much you can shake a pop bottle before it explodes. You can only stretch a rubber band so far before it snaps and you end up with a nasty welt on your hand. I'm not saying that I'm an emotional train wreck in the making (though it certainly feels like it at the moment), and I'm not saying that you should interact with me differently. Again, this is just me telling y'all who I am. This should change nothing. Savvy? So I think what I'm trying to say is that Katelynn's a bit more complex than you think she is.

I won't be labeled by any one religion. This doesn't mean that I'm rejecting everything. I just don't agree with how religion separates people, divides them, makes them hate. I agree with some ideals, and disagree with others. If you have a problem with that, deal with it. This is who I am, and it's high time people realize this. I don't enjoy it when people try to force-feed me ideas, and I like it even less when I try to remedy things and the other party refuses to remove their heads from their sphincters and actually maybe TRY TO UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M SAYING AND OPEN THEIR MINDS TO THE IDEA THAT I'M NOT OKAY WITH YOU SHOVING YOUR CONVICTIONS IN MY FACE.

Oh, let's delve away from the angry ranting for a bit, shall we? Let's see what else we can bring to the light... Ah. Back to the insecure part up thar. That comes into play right about now. I'm scared to death of things. Making an idiot of myself in public, being a disappointment to people. Being an inconvenience, or a liability. I'm afraid that I'll let people down. I'm afraid that if I let people see who I am under the shell of sarcasm and shining personality, they'll judge me. And I'm scared to death that once people read this, they'll see me differently. Which, perhaps, is what's going to happen. And you think "Why did you post this if you don't want people to view you differently?" My answer is simple. I don't want them to view me differently. But I want them to know. I don't want them to judge, but I want them to know.

With the insecurity comes a rather... diminished self image. Rather. It's gotten better since high school (We won't go there. Yikes.), but still. Dresses make me feel silly-ish. When people say how pretty I look in that black dress I own, I can't believe them. Just can't. Call me insecure. End of that story.

Ooh, let's touch this button, seeing as we need another reason to piss people off--I don't have anything against non-heterosexual people. That's right, folks. Homosexuality is fine by me. I've no problem with it, and I suppose I should go so far as to say that I support it. A good number of my closest friends are gay/bisexual, and I love them just the same as I would any other friend. At times, they're easier to talk to than most of my straight friends. And I. Love. Them. And do you know what else? THERE ISN'T A DAMN THING YOU CAN DO ABOUT ME LOVING THEM. So get off your soapbox and leave me and my emotions the fuck alone.

Hm. This is sounding like it's pointed towards one person. Maybe I shouldn't do that. You'll start thinking that this is pointed towards one person.

Oh. WAIT. >:(

Again, I'm not like this. Ever. But the bottle has been shaken too much. You, darling, are the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. You broke it. Snapped it. Crumpled it up and tossed it away, occasionally poking it with your righteous stick and seeing if it will come around anytime soon.

-fumes-

And now I'm realizing that it's really late, and that I'm probably going to regret posting this in the morning. But at the moment I don't give a shit, because I feel the selfish need to get really angry for once in my life, and my talking buddy isn't online. So here I rant and make NO SENSE AT ALL. I'm just an insecure bundle of nerves and unstable emotion that wears a perpetually happy mask. Yet you guys seem to love me anyway. I wonder why, sometimes. And I'm pretty sure I didn't write everything here that I wanted to (because we all know how eloquent Katelynn is when mental turmoil wields its mighty hammer), but it's fucking midnight, people. And I'm going to bed soon. Because I want to be done.

...Can we be done?