Obscenity

I feel like day by day, I'm losing a little part of me. There are so many endeavors I wish to pursue, so many dreams I want to live and fulfill, but in the end how many of them will actually happen? Slowly branches are pruned from my character, and it frightens me. My mother didn't raise me a killer. Is it so hard to chase my dreams whilst simultaneously appreciating art, literature and the simple beauty of our world? Seemingly it is so. I'm not even worthy of the life that I live. I am gifted with everything a boy could need to make a life for himself, but still I sit here in the dark of my room, typing into the deep chasm of the internet as my mind and muscles rot away. I am not nearly as clever as I used to be. I am not nearly as strong as I used to be. I am not nearly as fast as I used to be. I have become a slave to gluttony and sloth, lazing comfortably as ideals blow away on the breeze. What ever happened to the boy who wanted to save people and make the world a better place? People seem to hold the opinion that by disregarding these sentiments I have matured by I fear I have simply become lax in my duties. I'm sick of this repugnant and obscene way of life. There are times I long for a simpler life. To not feel the burden of hope but to simply be happy to settle with a lovely woman and lead an uneventful but happy life. But it will always be there. The voice in my head, knowing that I will have never extended my reach far enough. That I will never have achieved my potential. The voice that knows of the monster within. I am nothing more than deformed and deluded. I have become that which I swore to always fight. My feet are bound with shackles, my hands cuffed before me. I am led slowly, yet surely, to the gallows. I taught the hangman how to tie the noose, he cannot look me in the eye as he puts the coarse rope around my neck. Time slows as I fall through the air, my waisted youth flashing before my eyes. Then, black eternal. I wish for nothing more than answers. Though those I seek I know I shall not find. All I see is how bloated and corrupted I have become. I used to be a boy of many talents. Now I have few. I never did things like the other kids did, and I hate myself for it. Time is marching forever forward, and I grow older day by day. I must find sanctuary from this torment, or surely it will be the end of me.

Step up to the plate

Assessments finished and my mind is clear. Time hit this, and hit it hard. Nothings going to stand in my way. You try to hold me back and I will unleash hell on your candy ass. Let's do it.

:3

I see you walking with a beautiful grace a world conquering smile upon your face. It isn't love, but every time I kind of wish it was.

Captivity

Do you ever feel like you're out of place? Like you should be somewhere far away from all the evil in the world. Do you ever feel like you don't belong among the thieves and liars? That somewhere, there is someone who will understand you, a place to which you truly belong. Or do you think it's just the inability to cope with a harsh reality? Your fragile mind rejecting the fact that for every massacre we hear of, hundreds more go unheard. Sometimes I feel so sad. I want nothing more than to cry and cry, but the tears won't come out. I feel alien and emotionless, looking through the glass into a whole other world. People are crying over the endless the tragedies to the meaningless details, and I simply stand and stare. My hands pressed against the cold glass I long for a connection, to feel what they feel, to bear myself so rawly as they cry to the heavens. But still I am void. Broken and useless, I can do nothing but gaze in and dream of a life I never led. I've tried time and time again to break through the glass, but I am too weak.

I've always been too weak.

Endless messages and sentiments from my childhood pour into my mind. Glorious memories of the past tarnished by time. The innocent belief that one can truly understand another. That people without rule or restraint can still be kind. So on and so forth. A little part of me clings so desperately to these ancient feelings. Like photos faded by time they hold an indescribable power to look deep into your heart. I feel so wrong and backward. Most eighteen year old boys are out drinking, having sex, feeling invincible. I, honestly, do not see the attraction. I enjoy spending time with my friends, and potentially a drink may make things a bit more fun every now and then, but drinking for the sake of drinking is nothing short of a desperate escape. And as for sex, I simply do not see the appeal. Say what you will. I just want a brighter future. Something so that when I look back through time I can smile, and say 'yeah, I was a part of that'. I've tried a few times, but as always, I'm too weak.

I'll always be too weak.

I wish I was ignorant. I wish I could wake up everyday and be satisfied with the mundane. Not have to put on a mask in order to keep people happy. Not have to be aware of how utterly fucked the world is. Not have to feel the constant pressure of expectation. Simply to be satisfied with my potential and make nothing of it. In my dreams I am a super hero. I can make a difference. I can have it all. But of course, it is only a dream. It's no wonder that I'm not your preference. I know the truth. I'm not as stupid as I wish I was. But you know I still need you. Perhaps I was simply made not to feel. Born into captivity.

Maybe one day I'll be stronger.