i can’t raise one eyebrow

but just pretend that i can, okay?

recently i’ve been feeling a little…

skeptical, about the world.

now, i’ll back up and tell you a little background

about my personality.

i used to be a very pessimistic person.

i thought that everybody was born bad

and those who were “good” only did it because

a) they were trying to get something from you

b) they were pressured into being good

c) they had to keep up their “good” image.

in short,

i didn’t really have much faith in people

(or myself.)

i always thought that people who could

describe themselves in a few adjectives

and by their likes and dislikes

and those people who always seemed to be

all-or-nothing.

(mention glee: “OMG I LOOOOOVE THAT SHOW”

either that, or “OMG IT’S SOOOO ANNOYING”)

i thought that people who said that were shallow

and exaggerated too much.

like i said yesterday, i’ve stopped making myself

comment on big popular blogs just because i

“have to”

say “omg sooo delicious”

or

“yeah, i HATE it when that happens!”

i’ve always been skeptical of people who are

able to write their own “story.”

maybe it’s because i’m selfish and unclear about my own “story”

but life isn’t a story book.

i can’t describe myself and talk about ED like an “ordeal”

i went through.

i can’t describe life in words.

you’d have to feel it.

i wouldn’t be able to get my point across

about the feelings that i feel

about the things that i do

about the relationships i have to people

without overexaggerating and using literary techniques

like metaphors,

similes,

imagery.

(injected a little bit of english class in there for ya.)

an example of how skeptical i am is this:

my “best friend” (yes, once again in “quotation marks”)

keeps a diary on her computer.

it was meant to be private, but sneaky little me

(my sneaky little gossipy friend

who i rather dislike now, by the way)

went and read it, secretly.

i was very skeptical.

she is a very good writer, and described her feelings

and little tidbits of everyday life in beautiful,

moving detail.

complete with metaphorical insights

(classic example: “I was in the beginning of

a downward spiral into depression.”

that’s not a quote from her diary,

but it’s a metaphor that i’ve seen too many times

used to describe the development of ED.

i’m sick of this metaphor.

sure, it may be effective, but can you really

imagine yourself falling into a downward spiral?

i can’t. honestly, i kind of live life a little

numb,

don’t i?)

but basically, as i voiced my opinion of my skepticality,

i hurt her feelings.

i degraded her journal to a mere story, because

i didn’t believe that she really felt those things.

i thought that because she possessed the ability to write about it

in such storybook-like detail and eloquence

that it was probably exaggerated and fabricated.

i don’t like to describe myself, or my story

to anybody.

i don’t like to say things like

It probably started when I transferred schools. I was really overwhelmed by it all and was pretty disparaging of all of my peers, and so when I ignored them and they just ignored me back, I was content to shrink into my world of starvation. Little did I know, this was the beginning of my eating disorder and spiral downwards into darkness…

i know that maybe saying it like that

makes it a lot clearer for you.

but back then,

i didn’t feel overwhelmed by my school transfer.

i just dealt with it.

maybe the feelings came out in my control over food,

but i certainly didn’t feel it.

i certainly don’t feel like i have the right

to objectify it and say definitive things

like “this is when it started.

this is why it started.

this is how i felt.”

because i can’t. i just can’t describe life in words

and i’m a firm believer that nobody can.

that’s probably very selfish and narrow-minded of me

because i’m sure there are a lot of writer and bloggers out there

who voice their true opinions and feelings

but honestly?

for you to even comprehend what they’re saying

they’d have to plan it out and have structure to their writing

to get their point across.

that’s why i write like this.

that’s why i like to apologise “if i ever confuse you.”

that’s why…

see? i don’t know. i was attempting to use the

rule of three, but i couldn’t come up with the last one.

makes for a rather awkward joke, huh?

**

What do you think? Have you ever wondered how real “real” people are? Have you ever wondered… if you can relate to something that is written beautifully because, well, it was written beautifully? And if it was, would you ever doubt the sincerity of the beauty of the written work?