NP: How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead
God. Damn. It. All.
I can't do it.
Tonight, driving home from Ethan's place, I passed a girl in a beat-up Volkswagen Golf. As I passed her, I glanced over and our eyes met. Her eyes were dark but sparkled in the amber wash of the street lamps. In a bold move of self-confidence, I managed a shy smile as I passed (I wasn't going much faster than her).
I nearly ran her off the fucking road.
As I sped away in shame, I realized this singular event will haunt me for months (if not years) to come. One stupid little mistake, and I won't be able to forget it. A few moments after I realized this, I began berating myself for the fault of not being able to accept my mistakes, which lead into a paradoxical self-assailing loop.
You say love isn't like that. Love isn't earned by being perfect. Love is freely bestowed upon the receiver from the giver despite the receiver's shortcomings. A beautiful, poetic thought, but where's your proof? People like me aren't allowed to be human. We don't need hugs or shoulders to cry on; we're strong, intelligent, and independent. We don't make stupid mistakes because we're smart. If we do make such a mistake, we fail everyone we've ever loved. Everyone's watching us. We're role models, an inspiration to those around us. We can achieve anything we set our minds to because we're so capable.
Just don't drop the ball. Not even once.
Only scornful, ordinary, base-born humans drop the ball. And scornful, ordinary, base-born humans aren't worthy of love.
Be the good son.
God. Damn. It. All.
I can't do it.
Tonight, driving home from Ethan's place, I passed a girl in a beat-up Volkswagen Golf. As I passed her, I glanced over and our eyes met. Her eyes were dark but sparkled in the amber wash of the street lamps. In a bold move of self-confidence, I managed a shy smile as I passed (I wasn't going much faster than her).
I nearly ran her off the fucking road.
As I sped away in shame, I realized this singular event will haunt me for months (if not years) to come. One stupid little mistake, and I won't be able to forget it. A few moments after I realized this, I began berating myself for the fault of not being able to accept my mistakes, which lead into a paradoxical self-assailing loop.
You say love isn't like that. Love isn't earned by being perfect. Love is freely bestowed upon the receiver from the giver despite the receiver's shortcomings. A beautiful, poetic thought, but where's your proof? People like me aren't allowed to be human. We don't need hugs or shoulders to cry on; we're strong, intelligent, and independent. We don't make stupid mistakes because we're smart. If we do make such a mistake, we fail everyone we've ever loved. Everyone's watching us. We're role models, an inspiration to those around us. We can achieve anything we set our minds to because we're so capable.
Just don't drop the ball. Not even once.
Only scornful, ordinary, base-born humans drop the ball. And scornful, ordinary, base-born humans aren't worthy of love.
Be the good son.
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