Bright mourning.
Who am I? I asked myself many, many times. I am to be them? I asked myself many, many times. Since then, I've been fighting this. I've been fighting the urge to kick the bucket. To give in and be on you them. Those soulless humanoid things... With those empty eyes. I kept fighting it, always will. Otherwise I might be just another hypocrite, another soul this place took. With its dreams smashed, with its ideas shame and mocked by the world. I want something else. Always did. But you can't just do that. You can't avoid it. They won't let you. Whatever it is, you won't be able to do it. And by the end of the day, you are what you got scared of in the first place. At least that's how I see it. That's how I see myself in the mirror lately. Selfish, soulless, hypocritical more times than not. And this is my excuse. I can't just escape it, since they won't let me. Since I can't do it, I blame all you. Is what I would say, if I weren't alone, in this room.
Which is weird, I feel a bit schizophrenic. I've been talking to myself for years. But now I mask it, it's under all this writing I am doing. All these thoughts that I can't put out there and tell people about them. About all this turmoil that I've turned into small stories. But this is my tool, my way of fighting the thing I am afraid of. I can't say that I don't love it. Then again, going back to the schizophrenic episode, it's a lot like talking to yourself and those voices in your head. Because no one will answer my writing or to my thoughts, other than myself. Well, whatever... I don't have to convince myself of the things I already believe in. On the other hand, is good to have a debate with someone, just in case I missed something. Maybe that's how I keep my fire intact for the moment. If this isn't an allusion to masturbation, I don't know what is.
It's weird, not that I complain. I said again to myself, lonely as I sit in a chair. Thinking that all this might be just a coping mechanism. Something to get me through the day. Some lie I've been telling myself all these years trying to survive. Not that I had something to fight against or a reason to fight for something, I spoke again. For some reason, I can't keep my mouth shut, not when I'm alone. Now then, not that this is something wrong, as long as I can control it. Were my thoughts at that moment. And I wasn't wrong, because people don't care unless you take that filter off, put your mask under the strike of your boot and just open your mouth. Not that I encourage everyone to do this, and I never would. Since many do it on social media, and oh boy... Well... See, I thought to myself. I am a hypocrite, I exclaim as I publish this blog post. Then again, it's just another simple day.
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