I realized today that I am always on the ball when it's not my game to play. I'm unorganized and always confused when it comes to the tasks that I need to complete in my own life, the epitome of slacker. When it comes to others, I do such a good job of swooping in and getting all of their shit together. Why can't I do the same for myself? Maybe, I subconsciously don't care enough about my own well-being?
I can't sort out the rest of my thoughts on this for some odd reason. I'm always thinking about a million and one things at once. I hate this feeling.
P.S. I'm listening to Billy Ray Cyrus song right now thanks to Tory.
You can tell the world you never was my girl
ReplyDeleteYou can burn my clothes when I'm gone
Or you can tell your friends just what a fool I've been
And laugh and joke about me on the phone
You can tell my arms to go back onto the phone
You can tell my feet to hit the floor
Or you can tell my lilps to tell my fingertips
They won't be reaching out for you no more
But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
I just don't think it'd understand
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man
Ooo
You can tell your ma I moved to Arkansas
Or you can tell your dog to bite my leg
Or tell your brother Cliff who's fist can tell my lips
He never really liked me anyway
Oh tell your Aunt Louise, tell anything you please
Myself already knows that I'm okay
Oh you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind
It might be walking out on me today
But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
I just don't think it'd understand
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man
Ooo
But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
I just don't think it'd understand
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man
Ooo
Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man
Ooo
Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man
Ooo