Lies and secrets

Tired, how are you?
Feeling good, feeling fine?
Great to hear.
But not to see.
The imagery makes it a bit hard to bear.
The picture haunts us into forcing comparisons.
And that’s the way we’re gonna live.
Singular?
Independent?
Come on.
Let’s get serious for a second.
Stop the laughing.
Stop changing the subject to get some smiles out of the girl with the cute figure.
And just stop.
See?
Isn’t this nice?
We don’t do this enough.
Wanna see something cool?
Look to your right.
Now look down.
You getting the picture?
Good, good.
Now, let’s change this up.
Look forward.
Into the mirror.
Tell me what you see.
“This is a joke.
This can’t be happening.
This isn’t life.
You’re just being dramatic.”
Hah.
Overanalyzing,
Looking too much,
Stopping too often.
You caught me.
Laugh out loud,
I’ll accept this deviance in place of the mind numbing habit of ignoring.
Trust me,
You wouldn’t like who I was if you could relate to me.
So it’s better this way.
You missed the point of the mirror,
You, heh, responded like you should have.
I guess I should be used to dissapointment by now,
But it’s a damn hard reaction to embrace.
I just want to know you’re alive.
For my sake.
Which isn’t to say you love me,
But rather that you love yourself.
What I’m looking for,
You see,
Is not really you or me at all.
I’m not looking for certain characteristics.
I’m broadening the search.
I’ll take a Christian, black, female.
Anything.
As long as I can see it.
Shining through.
Naked.
And unadulterated.
The most frustrating thing about my quest, as one might call it,
Is that I’m getting so close.
But, heh, it’s so hard to know what to look for.
And so easy to miss.

I’m begining to think my life might be a chain guided by an opposing view of gravity. It seems, even though I seek out quality and sincerity, I am constanly thrown away from these things in such a way that I don’t notice until it’ much too late. Am I misinterpreting the series, or am I begining to understand I have found my answer? The series doesn’t seem complicated, and my refusal of admitting that the end is near is due to the infiltration of bad science into my character. I am conducting an experiment with an outcome in mind. While it isn’t a perfect one, it’s certainly desireable compared to this haunting, logical absolute. I can’t be alone. I can’t be the only one. I can’t really be insane. But really? I’m being forced to realize that I have to replace ‘can’t’ with ‘I wish I wasn’t’. I’m getting the obvious thrown in my face, but I can’t afford to cry everyday. I’m expecting just a little too much. Which is to say, expecting anything at all. And now I’m paying the price. Haha. But I’m fine, ya’ll. I’ve tried everything but suicide, but even then, it’s crossed my mind ;). In ten years time, most of you won’t know me. Laugh out loud, the person saying this won’t know me. And that’s beauty at work. Looks like we get to focus on the now, and live it up. Experience. Laughter. Tears. Love. And on and on.
If you want to know me, this is the closest thing you’ll ever be able to relate to : Insanity is evolution is change is love is. I am the craziest person you’ll meet, I just have my shit straight ;). And this is so much more for me than it is for you. Just remember that, and we’ll be fine.

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