High Expectations Anxiety

Fell a little for the young one with all the right curves and character strong. Enjoyable to be around in months of heavy rain clouded mind. I would wait for the days she worked to get some of that good time memories, drown out the negative, the humdrum bathing badness creating rings round my tubba tub. The bright light is dimmer but it’s better than staying at home wallowing counting followers and likes. Hobbit hole reconstruction, aging cheddar abstention ripening on the wooden table wrought with history; demolition fat contract demolishing white tissue.

Then the harsh judgements come back, tinkering away in my head just gagging for freedom to breathe. Movement surreptitious, sneaking eyes flash on flaws. She has her share, not unexpected. She’s happy-go-lucky and part of that “haters gonna hate” mentality. But the haters can have a point. Freeing yourself from societal burden can make you forget to better yourself, work on your changeable flaws that reduce pleasanville dreams. She says she’s mature but so many times the lie shows its face, maybe not a lie but a too early statement. Self-satisfied but tempered nonetheless, seems to care about the finer points but still I think superficial. Modern woman but girlish all the same. Not too responsible either. Pay rent but get mummy dearest’s help. Not in a better situation so why judge and cast stones.

But she’s always late, why do that to your fellow workers? Seems disrespectful, immature, self-centred brashness for the selfie generation. Microscopic myopic, at least I hope so. I lose some respect like what happens with so many others, men included. Should forgive but it irks me. Some things you shouldn’t be doing to others and that “grow up already” vibe gyrates and tumbles within me; perturbed bubbles rising to the top. Not really angry but just disappointed yet again and forever. High standards running amok, still haven’t changed much from childhood, always expecting the goodness to be omnipresent, higher value for the modern age but all the maids fall down. They need breaks, don’t push an idea of womanness onto them. Don’t play this morality game with all the struggling proles, everybody’s plate is empty and full at the same time. Give us a kiss and forget it all.

I’ll get over all these things, see the good that is in abundance. I accept in my time, I feel that’s good enough for me. Expectations are high for myself as well. Better to shine the marble model and let little cracks show, foundation is more than adequate. But oh do I want to forgive and not worry with such rot. Still the temptation to cast aspersions and judge judge judy sentiments. One day. Maturity isn’t over yet. Long roads on cluttered highways while I pass on the left.


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