To whom this may concern:
------------------------------------------------------------
My entire life I’ve felt, like I’ve existed,
On a separate plane of reality.
Every thing, and every one,
Was moving on,
And carrying on...
But I’ve been standing still.
. . .
Frozen, spectator,
Forced to view this spectacle;
Remaining skeptical,
Of everything, that everyone has ever told me.
I refuse to let these fools conform me...
...
The rift continues forming...
***
Opening up my eyes, never burned so much before.
I never, imagined,
That I was made like this;
I’m not made for this...
How can I control the urge to shoot myself?
To disengage myself,
From this semiconscious state?
Why should I believe, in another shallow lie?
I can see beyond the boundaries,
That you’ve set before me.
You place,
Your ways,
As entertainment.
But I find it boring...
***
Like a steer, slaughtered soundlessly,
Just to feed the hungry.
How can I relate to someone who cannot speak?
Who cannot hear;
...
Cannot feel my fear.
Maybe I’m insane, and everyone was right.
Should have stopped myself before I could:
Lose my control and shoot myself.
Disengaging myself,
From this semiconscious state.
Abandoning all my reason, and accepting something beautiful:
. . .
Oblivion.
***
Why, am I different?
Why should I be different?
Why can’t I live, and enjoy this plastic world?
Why, is everyone falling for this silver plated piece of shit?
They’re laughing at me...
...
But I don’t mind it.