Sit here and feel like shit. They say that the world doesn't revolve around you. But when you're sitting alone how can't it? The world revolves around you. It turns because of how you feel it feels because of how your mood turns even if only in your own eyes. Sitting alone you are the world to yourself and the world is you. Everything good and everything bad sits plainly beside you, floating in and out of thought. Regret conquers rejoice. Rejection conquers relief. Remorse conquers even the most stalwart and resolute of good intentions.
You sit and dwell and don't like what you see. The times you've bent and broken to life, to people, to your own doubts and fears. You don't like what you feel and you don't know how to fix it. You sit alone.
I've seen it, if once then a thousand times. You sit and dwell and the world closes in. No light in your day, no stars in your night, just grey. A great mass of swirling grey that pulls you and tugs you and fills you to the brim. It consumes you and turns you into something less than you. You are hopeless and forgotten and while your days do not end your part in them does. You walk but do not move. You see but do not look. You've become something you're not. Nothing.
Days pass, and nights pass too and nothingness fills you. Everything passes you by and everyone without even a glance. Your days are not numbered, not over, but they might as well be. The clutches of hopelessness and fear grasp about your neck, they sicken you with their touch, they pull you down into them regardless of how hard you fight. They are your end if only an end did come.
Days upend and nights fill with tumult. You don't know where you are. What you are. You don't know where to begin. You are not yourself. You don't know who stares back at you in your reflection. You are so fake you are an affront to fakeness. The world says be yourself and then tells you that what you are is evil or wrong. Be yourself so long as yourself is what we are.
But let me tell you this, a certainty that I know: That you are not alone. We are never alone. We are the same you and I. Two halves to a disjointed whole. I've seen what you've seen. I've been what you've been. I've felt what you have felt. I know what it's like to see the world through the lens of a camera, from the outside looking in, forever unable to impact it or to immerse in it. Know that it passes. Know that you will, if you try, be the person, the exact person, that you so want to be.
The road is difficult and many fall along the way. But together, all of us, we can make it. Together we will be free.
You sit and dwell and don't like what you see. The times you've bent and broken to life, to people, to your own doubts and fears. You don't like what you feel and you don't know how to fix it. You sit alone.
I've seen it, if once then a thousand times. You sit and dwell and the world closes in. No light in your day, no stars in your night, just grey. A great mass of swirling grey that pulls you and tugs you and fills you to the brim. It consumes you and turns you into something less than you. You are hopeless and forgotten and while your days do not end your part in them does. You walk but do not move. You see but do not look. You've become something you're not. Nothing.
Days pass, and nights pass too and nothingness fills you. Everything passes you by and everyone without even a glance. Your days are not numbered, not over, but they might as well be. The clutches of hopelessness and fear grasp about your neck, they sicken you with their touch, they pull you down into them regardless of how hard you fight. They are your end if only an end did come.
Days upend and nights fill with tumult. You don't know where you are. What you are. You don't know where to begin. You are not yourself. You don't know who stares back at you in your reflection. You are so fake you are an affront to fakeness. The world says be yourself and then tells you that what you are is evil or wrong. Be yourself so long as yourself is what we are.
But let me tell you this, a certainty that I know: That you are not alone. We are never alone. We are the same you and I. Two halves to a disjointed whole. I've seen what you've seen. I've been what you've been. I've felt what you have felt. I know what it's like to see the world through the lens of a camera, from the outside looking in, forever unable to impact it or to immerse in it. Know that it passes. Know that you will, if you try, be the person, the exact person, that you so want to be.
The road is difficult and many fall along the way. But together, all of us, we can make it. Together we will be free.
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