The Big Picture I Call Life

sad-house-of-mortality:

“Everything about me has changed. I dipped inside my soul, with fingers, scarlet, and burning, and rebuilt the castles within me. But first, I burned my heart to embers… and the sadness leaked into my bones. The sadness spread, throughout my blood. Tall and towering, castles of pain, grown from the earth and blood of my soul. Look. Look what has been done to me. Living and dead, all in one.”

— Helaena C Moon @ http://hapless-hollow.tumblr.com/ (via hapless-hollow)

My issue is I want people to like me for what they see me as too much. I become what I think they fantasize me as being or I think they except me to be. Sometimes it’s what I feel they respect, sometimes it’s what I think they fear. I’ve lost myself somewhere in all this ever changing metamorphosis. It grows tiring after awhile and the veil slowly drops over time. They stand in disbelief or disgust of the person infront of them. Wondering where this person came from and if they are the cause of it. But they never are and this person was always there just hiding deep down waiting to see if you’ll actually except them as they are. Why do I always hide me? Why do I try so hard to give people what I think they want instead of my true self? Because nobody really likes the real me. They like the idea of me and nothing more. That’s me I’m a idea, I’m the dream girl, but nothing more than that. Once you have me and I fill your fantasy of me I drop the veil. I watch you struggle from the web I have spun, but the more you fight the tastier the kill. Until there is nothing left of you or the web and I start again.