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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


09.24.15

I am tired of fighting people's expectations of me. What the brother wants. What my parents want. What certain friends from my past think I am. I think: It's been 10 years since I first arrived in Ireland. It's a country with weather like me: mercurial, a little unpredictable, never quite right, gloom and doom for yonks, broken by pure magic once in awhile. No wonder I feel so at home here. There is a certain peace you have to make with the weather, if you want to live here. Otherwise, you will gripe, and feel uneasy with everything. I am finally at peace with who I am, even though some of my actions, and the actions of others, still bother me from time to time. I can't always suit what everyone wants from me, and that's fucking OK.






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