the truth is I don't feel very eloquent tonight. And I suppose I feel uncomfortable talking about your flaws because I associate alot of them with myself. Or more so I consider your flaws probably alot less in number than my own. It's weird because normally I don't have a problem putting people down. I'm not an insensitive brute all the time like often my Brother is, but there's something sadistic in me that enjoys a good insult. But when it comes to you, I can joke about things, but still when I think about your personality I get weird butterflies in my stomach. Some days I feel disconnected from you, like you've had it with the human race and would rather communicate via a pen and paper because they won't hurt you, they won't cut you, but then I close off on at least as many occasions as you. Yet ultimately, deep down we're both ultra-sensitive souls. We can get hurt by the stupidest, most pathetic throwaway comment, take it directly to heart and think it over for days on ends. Let it slowly seep into our souls untill we believe it ourselves and it begins to destroy the self-confidence we've built up. Those are the days where we harden our shell on the outside and become difficult to crack.
Those are the days perhaps when we appear perfectly fine to the outside World, yet there's a little guy inside the padded cells of our mind who keeps running at the walls. Into them. Head first. Wishing there was someway out of the confined prison, wishing there was at least a length of rope nearby. Yet those days are frustrating, because when people come a'knockin on the apparently shallow depths of our conscious we want to grab them and scream at them that everything isn't all right and that are minds aren't hollow but full of hatred and worthlessness and bitterness. Why can't you see me? Why can't you see I'm hurting. Are you too dumb to look in the right places, under the armour, or am I just completely invisible to you? Because under the exterior I'm not all fucking nice, everything isn't all la-di-da but maybe, just maybe if you actually took the time to realize that for once, you could see my evil thoughts, my twisted plans, and pull them out of me. Drag me. Heal me. Heal and share the exruciating pain you caused in the first place. Just stop fucking pretending that life is all rosy. Yesterday never happened, did it? You're too greedy. Way too greedy to share my pain. Or maybe you're just a coward. Maybe you're hurting too, but too much of a fucking robot to come out and say it. You might break down huh? It might break you down. Maybe we're all the same. Maybe we all need to let it out. Does anyone ever really? That's our greatest fault. Gritting our teeth, wallowing in ourselves, but not letting others share the misery they've caused us. Because keeping it in, in, in. It's easy. But this is NOT WHAT WE WANT. We've had a life of it, to an extent, but they can never fucking stop our heart from pulsing. That is why we want them to listen. Listen to our heart beat. Closely. Because it beats for freedom. It wants to dance, to sing, to run free, over the hills and far away. To parardise. A paradise full of fervour and passion, colour, desire, romance, sex, violence. Violence? Yes violence. But not the kind where we live in fear. The kind where we fight for love and morals and humanity. We fight from our strength, we don't fight from our fucking weakness. Because this is who we are. We want to make a difference in the World, we want to care, to cherish, to help, to be needed. We are a thousand brilliant lights racing through the never ending skies, brighter than the sun that's burns through our tingling skin, with wings spread wide and tears streaming through our eyes. Tears of unbridled joy, of gut-wrenching pain and indescribable madness. So why is that choked out of us so easily? Why do we let people possess us, put their corrupt hands on our throats and shake the wonderment out of us. I don't know. I only know it is not yours, but our greatest weakness. A flawed way of living. To feel it all, and say nothing. To say everything, and feel nothing. We cannot strike the balance. We shall always be looking to find it.
