no one thinks about you as much as you think they do
you anguish over how you hope they saw you
over whether you think they’ll call you
you worry about a vague impression
a choice of words
a mere digression
no one’s mind sees another better
than it thinks it sees itself
we’re always harsher critics
when it comes to our own lives
go ahead, beat yourself up a little more
tell yourself you’re ugly
fail before you even try
no one cares about your final score more than you do
no one’s watching
it only feels like the eyes are always on you
no one dreams in third person
it’s only in stories, contrived fantasies
that omniscient gods have more insight
than the main characters do
in real life, there’s ME and YOU
and a vast gulf between us
where you rule your kingdom
and I rule mine
and only sometimes, in those rare, true, and sacred moments
can my consciousness kiss yours
and for the briefest of instants,
thoughts about me
mean thoughts about you
Garbage Notes:
I tend to beat myself up quite a bit over what other people might think of me. I know, no one wants to hear you admit that. And it sounds self conscious and insecure and all that bullshit just to express it in words. But the truth is, no one really thinks about you as much as you think about yourself.
I think introverts (and to a great extent, writers) are especially guilty of this—we get so wrapped up in how we’re seen through the eyes of other people, that it can sometimes paralyze us and cause us a great deal of doubt and confusion.
It’s easy to overanalyze every word, every little gesture, every response, and tie ourselves up in knots over what it all means, how it all reflects back on us. But constantly trying to see ourselves through that artificial “third person” lens of what others think of us is unhealthy, unproductive, and will ultimately destroy you.
I like the connection to literary perspective. It’s true that it’s only in fiction that we find omniscient narrators with more insights than the main characters. Real life isn’t like that. I think it’s no coincidence that I prefer expressing myself in first person. Anything else feels a little contrived. The second I start spilling truth in third person, things start breaking down for me.
The last point I’ll make is regarding the ‘vast gulf’ mentioned at the end of the poem. This gulf is always bridged with genuine communication. When my “consciousness kisses yours” is when we share words, through poetry, through discourse, and through acts of true love. This really is where the thoughts of me and thoughts of you finally become one.
Franco Amati 2023
I love this piece, especially - "can my consciousness kiss yours"
I am totally like this. I get so caught up in the perceptions. Sometimes you have to let it all go and say fuck it and get on with your life! Fantastic prose.