I resent all of the adjectives given to a child me: boxed thought-that-counts considerations picked out and wrapped with bows. I resent all of the weight put on a child me by some words said by some person people some friends family some strangers well-intended but controlling in their meaning what defined me who i am all i could ever hope to be. Am I smart? I’m so smart. Such smarts so smart and pretty too. A powerful dynamic mixed with drive such drive so driven and going going gone but never really there. I set out to live a life lived by people granted such fine adjectives given so many hopes and dreams of what I’m told I am of what I could possibly potentially aim to be. There was such guilt so much heavy guilt in a childlike version of me: a guilt for being sad while having all of these things for having these things these gifts this promise this position these chances these chances I’ve wasted am wasting redefining who I see. When I look into my own eyes when I look into a mirror: some person’s past mistakes some person just reflecting. Thinking of all of the adjectives all of those compliments well-meaning well-received but misinformed that decided my image in my mind of what i should want could want might try to be. I see myself standing there now still standing but now so small. Stripped of adjectives and definitions just trying always trying to make some self make sense.

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