Drama to the Stage Please...

By , Broomfield, CO
A shrink is what I am. I am only fifteen, but yet I take on the world as if I'm 35. Can someone please explain this to me? Why is it that I'm so small, but yet am seen as someone with so much power, an all consuming "bigger" presence? I know I'm only 5'4" but how is it that I still have the power to scare guys s***-less? How am I the mother figure to those whom are floundering. I'd be damned if I know, but the thing is, I want to know. So let me be damned for all they care. This power, I don't want it, so why is it mine to have? I guess I'll never know, but I would like someone to stop and see it from my point of view. They all say they're sick of this s***, they're done playing "therapist" for the needy, clingy, whining bitches they surround themselves with. I have to laugh, because aren't they coming and whining to me? The fifteen year old shrink? They may say they're done, but "ha!" their complaining is pointless. I don't recall the last time I was asked, "Who do you need me to hurt?" It must have been forever ago, that is, when I still was able to have friends. Now, I sit back and watch the world from this recluse little space. I must be insane to continue this facade of happy-go-lucky person that everyone can come to when they need a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, a person that has their back in a fight. I'm what you would call a "fair weather" friend. People only come to me when they need their problems solved. I have seriously considered charging people for my advice they do not follow, even when they ask for it. Maybe if I make them start paying me, they'll pay attention? I guess it's just this human nature thing that we all blame. I don't blame it; well yes, I'll admit, on occasion I blame humanity. But I blame value of the generations of which the world is now bringing up in today's society. I blame the conscious mind that is always in need of instant satisfaction: total gratification. The Id, a compelling force that no one can resist. I don't want this power, but, look, that's the Id speaking to me again. I'm fifteen, but yet, I'm seen as 35. Logic? What is this? They tell me that I'm to nice, I guess they'll find out the bastard I can be if they push me to far once more...





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