I vent the weight off my shoulders by holding and speaking to my sister’s baby. I could for hours if I had the time. I tell him of my troubles, my regrets, what I believe I have in store for me in the future. I know he doesnt understand me, he just gives me this blank look. Possibly not having a single clue of what I’m jabbering on about. I do this because no one else would give me the time of day.
A baby doesn’t do either of these things, they just quietly listen or gaze into your eyes, as if they’re eagerly awaiting to what you have to say, as if maybe they sympathize with you by remembering a past life.
It’s depressing that they won’t remember their most fondest and pampered memories, a time where you could cry publicly without shame, only to be embraced and held, a time where you could sleep the day away without fear of responsibilities, a time of innocence and blissful ignorance.
I would give anything to reverse this fuck up I so beautifully crafted for myself and become a baby once again. Maybe, I’d stray away from this godforsaken lifestyle I’ve wandered into, or maybe not. Maybe I was destined to rot alone.
A baby doesn’t do either of these things, they just quietly listen or gaze into your eyes, as if they’re eagerly awaiting to what you have to say, as if maybe they sympathize with you by remembering a past life.
It’s depressing that they won’t remember their most fondest and pampered memories, a time where you could cry publicly without shame, only to be embraced and held, a time where you could sleep the day away without fear of responsibilities, a time of innocence and blissful ignorance.
I would give anything to reverse this fuck up I so beautifully crafted for myself and become a baby once again. Maybe, I’d stray away from this godforsaken lifestyle I’ve wandered into, or maybe not. Maybe I was destined to rot alone.
