(no subject)
Every day we perform a new charade. Who are we trying to please anyway? Too often it seems the last person on our list that matters is ourselves. So every day we pretend to be something we're not(well not totally anyway) What does this all mean what is the point? There is no point it's one of societies little head games in a effort to be non-conformist we end up blindly falling into one stereotype or another. It is with this schizophrenic struggle I contend with every day I find that my outward personality changes from person to person. It is then I start to wonder what or who am I? Do I act and react this way because it is truly who I am and what I feel or is that worldly personality know as Cody simply a reflection of the past down beliefs of my family or even of strangers. It is said that as humans we share a universal consciousness among our own kind. With many being blissfully unaware of this perhaps they are unwittingly corrupting our collective consciousness. Perhaps it is simply my inner cowardice that causes me to change what I say or what I say I believe depending on the person I am talking to. Those who know me for what I think I am (meaning the way I act/react most frequently) would say that I am a little strange. Oddly, I feel empowered by this comment for all the people afraid to let their inner strangeness thrive that mine is acknowledged give me a sense of personal pride. Yes, maybe I am a little crazy. For a large portion of my life I was always trying to be something I wasn't 100% of the time. I hated myself for it yet I felt trapped in that psycological construct. Eventually, I had forgone the pettiness of trying to assimilate into society( a society of deluded fools it would seem to me now) I built myself a mental fortress. No one in, no one out and thats the way it was.(and still continues to be but to a lesser extent) However, that which had become my fortress became my prison and I was trapped unwittingly in my head. How can that be? Imagine projecting your mental reality onto everything and everyone that was real. My friends and family became increasingly annoyed and fewer in number. What had I become? I stopped eating, I had forgotten how to have any social interaction, evaen among my close friends I felt an unwanted stranger. I lived as if in a dream not caring, my eyes were open but I saw not the opportunities that presented themselves before me. The world had died in my mind and in my heart. And so it happened in the twilight of this age in my mind that I became the drug wraith. There existed no drug that I wouldn't try and I had no limit all those with me were left behind by limitless usage. I was dead, at least spiritually I watched that time of my life through a haze. I awoke each day with the sole purpose of finding anything and getting high. I existed as an emotionless phantom never staying in one place(especially home) for any amount of time. Hate became my only familiar friend. Sadness constantly whispering in my shadow and anxiety always riding the first rays of the dawn. That time has passed and yet I miss it in a way, the way a soldiers misses the terror and triumph of battle. But I am glad to be here I hope I don't lose hope in this dream. I would hate to see yet another wither away into nothing in front of my eyes.