Bobble Head in This Prism
Im trapped in this prism we call life. The color spectrum is bleeding together creating a black hole. I don’t know what im really saying. Just rambling on about my life and what choices I have made. My friends say don’t waste your time on regret, you should never regret they say. Well I regret a few things in my life, but I don’t dwell on the stupid shit. You learn from your mistakes and try not to make them again. But somehow we seem to make the same mistakes, or at least I have. I say im going to change myself. But change myself into what? Something the society wants or what my family wants. Fuck that. I am intelligent, just have made some bad choices and who hasn’t, right? Why am I attacking myself or trying to explain myself, when what I do is me. Im sick of justifying myself to my friends and family, and even to me. Im sick of being in this prism and having my spectrum melt together into this negative force of color. But its me that makes it this negative force. I fall away from my friends when I need them the most. I burrow inside myself when something hits me. I shield myself from getting close to people I care about. I explode in this prism and sink into the black hole. I bob up for air when I need it but sink further down waiting for the right moment to break free and show you who I am. And who is you? I have yet to find out who you are. Ive searched for you but im still walking solo in this dark society. Maybe solo is where I need to be right now. The rain, yes the rain. The wet kisses of you are what I feel. The feel of you is all over me. Im drenched in the very essences of you, rain. The bitter breeze freezes me in place. im the statue of a time when life was at its finest, when dreams really did exist, and life was full of opportunities. What are dreams for? To push us on for what we can be. Or are dreams there to fuck with our heads and make us want what we can’t even have. They say dreams can become a reality. What dreams are they talking about? Some of us dream of going to Harvard or dating someone famous, or going to moon, or finding that special someone to share every moment with. Well some of us cant go to Harvard or make it to the moon, or some of us have lost our true love. But then again what is true love? Is true love and dreams just a figment of our imaginations? Does true love really exist? Is what im talking about even worth writing? I don’t know and I don’t really care. Im mind is out and wants to speak. So I give it command and out comes my inner voice speaking for you to read. And who is you again? I don’t expect anyone to understand this, which is just fine cause I wrote it for myself not for anyone else. Im sick of burying my feelings inside, im sick of standing outside and getting walked on. Im sick of feeling this pain that comes and goes. But Thats life right? Life is meant to be a struggle. Each struggle is suppose to build and mold us into a fine person. But what about those people whose lives have caused them to end theirs. What are the loved ones who they left behind suppose to do? What am I suppose to do with out my uncle. He was always there, always willing to come to any event I had. He gave me the courage when I lost mine; he cheered me on when I lost hope in myself. He was my rock when I needed him. Where was I for him? Really what can an 11 year old do for man who is 1000 miles away? If I had only been there that nite he took his life. If I could of been there could I have prevented it? Why do I still feel this way 8 years later? The snow drifting off the roofs and the rain beating against the window is him. He lets me know he is still around. But why does it still pain me? I miss his reassuring hugs and kisses on the forehead. Marty you will always be the brightest star in the sky and the snow flake that graces my cheek. Memories are wonderful and yet painful. But what if you couldn’t remember the times you had, that would be a tragic thing. Memories bound us all together. We are all twisted together, but all unique and beautiful. Some of us search for the beauty in us, but we tend to look in the wrong places. Who I am to talk about searching in the wrong places. I have no right to talk about that. I have searched in the wrong places and I have come out lower than before....but ive learned, slowly creeping out....this piece is meant to be confusing and yet make me, you, us think about our own self’s and what our true voice want to say. What is our true voice? Have you found it? And have I found it yet? All I know is that who I am, is who I am.... and I can’t change who I am and I don’t want to. There are minor things that just need some tuning up...but that’s with everyone....what about fate? Im sick of people saying fate is what brought us together? Im sick of them saying fate will bring us together...ill take fate in my own goddamn hands....fate is what you do...what actions you take to get it. You can’t just sit there and be like its fate....you must take action; it’s your life. Im taking fate in my own hands and im going to grasp what I have wanted and im going to come out on top and help my fellow friends. My friends and family will always be there for me, so will be there on top with me. Life is looking up...color is going to change and the prism is going to breath again..........or is it?