Bews world @bewsworld - Tumblr Blog

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bewsworld

I think it’s interesting how an influx of attention can leave me feeling more invisible than being unnoticed. At times, I don’t feel like a person. I feel like the river. The river that narcissus saw himself in and fell in love with not because he admired the water; the way that it glistened and moved or for all that makes a river a river.. He loved the river, because he saw himself in it. Or better said he loved himself and the river was just there…and sometimes, when people look at me, enamored with wide eyes and a smile, especially men who look at me with lust and curiosity, I don’t feel like I’m being seen at all. I feel utterly invisible in those moments…in front of them…those men. I feel like maybe they’re seeing their reflection in my own eyes and they’re just using me to get a closer look at themselves. Imaging how i can be a piece of their puzzle but not seeing that I am a puzzle myself. They see me as clay to be molded not a cut of stone already shaped to my own liking. Maybe they’re seeing their future in me, and how I could enhance the vision that they have for themselves, the life that they imagined for themselves, I feel like I’m being looked at like a resource. Like I’m on the auction block. I don’t feel like a woman I feel like a river. And all I can hope is that I can slip away and make it down stream while they get caught up, looking at themselves in my reflection, a mile away.

bewsworld

I have this fear that everyone is secretly trying to escape me…

I think about it the most when I clean the kitchen. I look at the mess, some of which isn’t mine, and I’m a bit tired from working all day, a bit fatigued for no particular reason (probably because I haven’t been eating enough lately).

For a moment I think to just clean up my mess and leave the rest, it’s not like anyone expects me to clean up after them, and it’s not like they left it for me to clean up but a voice in my head says “make yourself useful” and another says “the more you do the more bearable you’ll be”.

And so like the obedient girl I’ve always been, the autopilot is on and here I am cleaning up after myself and everyone else in hopes that if I do enough my presence will be tolerated for another day.

Better yet:

If I do more than enough I might be tolerated forever.

I have this fear that everyone is secretly trying to escape me and that behind my back they’re tracking every sign of my existence, like a tally, and one day I’ll have reached my limit and they’ll have had enough and they’ll be so relieved to finally have enough reason to leave me behind. I worry that I’m just extra baggage. The odd one out. An inconvenience.

I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way. Possibly my whole life? Maybe since adolescence?

What a shame that all the qualities people love most about me are silent attempts to keep them around.

• helpful

• considerate

• selfless

• clean

• thoughtful

They have no idea that these aren’t qualities born out of good intention, instead it’s how I manipulate. It’s how I trick you into staying and loving me. It’s an illusion I create, making myself small so you can feel big. It’s how I blind you from seeing how unbearable I really am. But the facade can’t last forever and one day I won’t be able to overcompensate for the inconvenience of my existence and everyone will see through the veil and promptly leave me behind.