Never lie, steal, cheat, or drink. But if you must lie, lie in the arms of the one you love. If you must steal, steal away from bad company. If you must cheat, cheat death. And if you must drink, drink in the moments that take your breath away.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
A Slightly Bipolar Moment...
Have you ever felt alone inside your own mind? Like the thoughts that you possess transcend what you are going through? Like the sheer misunderstandings of those around you bring you to tears? Well I’m there now. All I can do is imagine myself sailing above these problems, above these buildings that simultaneously free me and bind me…people that are meant to be my equal are seemingly fast-moving sugar ants under my feet. I have no idea where to turn. I need some sort of escape. Somewhere my mind can soar with no fear of being judged nor misguided; where I can be myself with no sort of scrutiny. Does such a place exist? Is there anywhere I can find true peace and elude even myself? Where my tears can fall without a sound and I can take pleasure in their silence? It is not the loneliness that instills fear in me; it isn’t the solitude that defines me. It’s the cold. The icy chill of the other side of the bed. The way the lucid water shrivels my fingertips when I’ve been in the shower too long from crying. The heartless echo of an empty room. The “there is someone out there for everyone” ideal leaves me without hope. I have learned that conforming myself to what a man wants is not the way—hell, they don’t even know what they want. My becoming this relationship chameleon only defeated me in the long run. I lost pieces of myself along the way. Does the empty ever go away? Does one finally regain that sense of oneness, with or without a mate? As soon as I thought I knew who I was, my world was once again turned upside down. The in crowd is out, nobody is trying to keep up with the Joneses anymore and what’s silent is sound. Laughter makes my skin crawls like a squeaky Styrofoam cup. Why am I here? What purpose do I serve in other’s lives? If no one can hear me scream, am I really screaming? Or is there just no one ceasing their busy lives to listen to my lamentations. Ecoute, s’il vous plait. How do I know my real friends from those who are using me? For my possessions, for my time, for my body…still trying to find my way out of the maze…
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