BrahamCracker
Bluelighter
. I'm lost in a place that can't be explained in the English language. Unless your here with me like an invisible sibling, you cannot fathom my pain. When there is a single strand of doubt in my mind, I doubt if the world is real. I can dream happiness but wake up to the cold feeling that's built itself into my identity. Doubt is quite the feeling. How come I always doubt that I will be successful? If I was true to myself I would back me up. If my sister told me that she wouldn't make anything of herself I would stop her right there with a stern “NO!” Nothing can stop you from being what you want if you want it enough. To see her smile makes me feel a pure genuine feeling that I am gifted and amazing.
. Why then do I not believe my own advice? Is it true that we just say things to make others feel better at the price of being a hypocrit? Why do people get angry when you are honest? My findings is that people expect you to lie to them and make them feel better. Is it really lying if they believe it when I don't?
You see, people have been calling me brutally honest for years. They say I don't have a soul because I can't connect with people's feelings. Apparently I don't have a human heart and the soul-less muscle in it's place is empty of love and affection. I wouldn't disagree, plenty of times I did not feel the emotions that 90% of my peers do. I want to, but there's a mysterious entity in my blood, a sort of poison I inherited from something I saw or ate as a kid that changed my perfect system of nerves and emotions. What I have now is comparable to a homeless hippy. Hoping for peace and love but realizing that home is not where the heart is, it's where your life of working and slaving away is based. Why can't the 8 – 5 regular see what I am trying to tell them?
. Drugs have not helped my bodies chemistry. The silky smoke that rushes my brain like a bullet in slow motion piercing skin rips my map up even more. How can I find my way out when the only thing that cures my negative alter ego is what's leading me in the wrong direction? Yes we are aware of what we ingest, but answer me this... without it would be deteriorate faster? Madness is beautiful and originality is the protagonist that asks the brain, what if? What if the world isn't what the powerful make it seem to be? But then again what if it is?
.
You see, the universe is too rich to be explained. I have the grasp I just can't understand it. Some call it depressin but I like to think of it as this. Everytime I daydream I'm exploring more than people who don't. Everything I make up in my mind is real at that point in time. It may not exist in the real world, but that does not make it fake.
.
I choose to daydream because I refuse to accept the boring realities of waking life. Like every generic pill I've been prescribed to make me blend in more and be a good little boy is going to change a strong willed mind. I will prove someday that it was time well spent sitting in my room instead of playing outside. Call it manic depressive behavior like everyone else, but sometimes I get this feeling that I'm the one who has it right. In the brief moments of pure happiness which can be compared to seeing your new born child or achieving your wildest goal you thought you'd never accomplish.
How can I explain it to you? Please take my word that I will never give up. I'll be the typical susie in the mental ward before I give in to your fake plastic tree world. Please somebody understand, tap into the roots of my mind and access the energy of hope I emitt and give me your condolences. I will never be normal but you can never be original, creative and abnormal as me. So who's the real winner?
. Why then do I not believe my own advice? Is it true that we just say things to make others feel better at the price of being a hypocrit? Why do people get angry when you are honest? My findings is that people expect you to lie to them and make them feel better. Is it really lying if they believe it when I don't?
You see, people have been calling me brutally honest for years. They say I don't have a soul because I can't connect with people's feelings. Apparently I don't have a human heart and the soul-less muscle in it's place is empty of love and affection. I wouldn't disagree, plenty of times I did not feel the emotions that 90% of my peers do. I want to, but there's a mysterious entity in my blood, a sort of poison I inherited from something I saw or ate as a kid that changed my perfect system of nerves and emotions. What I have now is comparable to a homeless hippy. Hoping for peace and love but realizing that home is not where the heart is, it's where your life of working and slaving away is based. Why can't the 8 – 5 regular see what I am trying to tell them?
. Drugs have not helped my bodies chemistry. The silky smoke that rushes my brain like a bullet in slow motion piercing skin rips my map up even more. How can I find my way out when the only thing that cures my negative alter ego is what's leading me in the wrong direction? Yes we are aware of what we ingest, but answer me this... without it would be deteriorate faster? Madness is beautiful and originality is the protagonist that asks the brain, what if? What if the world isn't what the powerful make it seem to be? But then again what if it is?
.
You see, the universe is too rich to be explained. I have the grasp I just can't understand it. Some call it depressin but I like to think of it as this. Everytime I daydream I'm exploring more than people who don't. Everything I make up in my mind is real at that point in time. It may not exist in the real world, but that does not make it fake.
.
I choose to daydream because I refuse to accept the boring realities of waking life. Like every generic pill I've been prescribed to make me blend in more and be a good little boy is going to change a strong willed mind. I will prove someday that it was time well spent sitting in my room instead of playing outside. Call it manic depressive behavior like everyone else, but sometimes I get this feeling that I'm the one who has it right. In the brief moments of pure happiness which can be compared to seeing your new born child or achieving your wildest goal you thought you'd never accomplish.
How can I explain it to you? Please take my word that I will never give up. I'll be the typical susie in the mental ward before I give in to your fake plastic tree world. Please somebody understand, tap into the roots of my mind and access the energy of hope I emitt and give me your condolences. I will never be normal but you can never be original, creative and abnormal as me. So who's the real winner?
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