Girl, Interpreted

 Today, I have decided to write again. 

A poet once said that a wounded person does not crave a bottle, a cigarette, or a pipe full of addiction but rather the need and urge to be hurt again. We become so consumed in the idea of the pain that we ache for the next spill of blood,  and I don't particularly think the wounded person is seeking this for the pain itself but for what comes after. or what I like to call a false sense of "freedom", a position of being so far gone there is nothing left to do but live for yourself. 

"You think you're free? I'm free! You don't know what freedom is! I'm free! I can breathe! And you... you're gonna choke on your average fucking mediocre life!"-Lisa  (girl, interrupted 1999) 

I remember as a middle schooler this quote had a chokehold on my personality. I looked at my life in front of me and the cursive carved pain and thought- that even as unhinged this character was- and even the irony that shaped this quote. I thought it was the perfect definition of "strength/willpower". and I lived by it, thought my ability to move on as quickly as I built something made me more of a person. I ran through people differently than most and became so close just to disappear completely. I thought I was smart, able to read the person before they even understand themselves. I'm not internally sure if I ever was.

Today, I have decided to write again.

I've decided to write again because I had forgotten about individuality. Became the type of serotype I hated. The type of person too afraid to let go, the uncertainty in their ability to be only their own. and even though I don't believe there is any more freedom in loneliness, I do believe that it allows you to understand that there are bones in your wrist and that those bones have the ability to move and with the motion, you have the ability to live. Not just for your person, your mom, your friends, and your family. But completely for yourself. 

The poet wasn't wrong. And even though it paints a shitty portrait of myself. It got me far enough to build things, even if I left them. It allowed me to dance to old music in a motel. It allowed me to want to break a stereotype. It protected me when I need protection and was done completely for myself. You may call me unfiltered words to comfort you in abandonment or hatred for your loneliness. But I will continue to thank you for the memories you allowed me to take up space in. 

-papercutkneecaps/teddy/chip/hannah

-I always read the title of the movie "Girl, Interrupted" as "Girl, Interpreted" and I think it's more fitting. To be interrupted is to be stopped, to lose motion. To be interpreted is to think about the theory of who we are. The character didn't stop living because her shit hit the wall, she just started realizing why. - 

anyways thank you for reading.. not sure if yall wanted me back... but idc im back. also none of my writting ever makes sense