My name contains a series of ten letters and five syllables, I have also managed to see
seventeen birthday cakes sit in front of me while I make pointless wishes on burning candles
that will soon fade just like the things i've wished for inside of my never ending head. I
don't like to speak; I hate voicing my thoughts for the fear of rejection,
miscommunication, and embarassment. I do not like the spotlight, I don't like knowing
that all eyes are focused on me and that with every steady breath they take I am
struggling to inhale the air in which surrounds me, practically taunting me, I stutter and
trip over my words, I regret the things that I let slip past my lips and so often I remain
quiet, my exterior is so very different from my interior, and most wil never even get to
know that. I like the darknes, for I blend in with it quite well, metaphorically speaking. I
like to be hidden and unseen, away from conflict, drama, and any other unnecessary
bullsh/t. I adore words, and the power they have, they can make or break a person, they
have the ability to change a perspective or bring someone down, they are beyond
incredible when used to their full advantage. I have a deep appreciation for the color
black, and how you can interpret this color in many ways. I like black roses, black
clothes, black nails, and even black thoughts. I'm infatuated with something I had once
been afraid of: thunderstorms. They are natures beloved beauty, and not scary at
all if you take the time to memorize the way thunder roars in different beats, and how the
lightning never quite flashes in the same form, and how pretty the rain is whether it's
softer or harder than your pounding head. I also like hurricane, and how their
destruction always seems to lead to something greater, I am a hurricane, without the
positive end result, though. I am alone because I choose to be. I'll never undestand my
motives or my decisions but for some reason I can't change them, they are written on an
invisible plaque and no ammount of scrubbing will erase it, even if something's written in
pencil and it eventually gets erased, that doesn't change the fact that those words were
still there, they will always be there even if you can no longer read them. I like scary
things and creepy encounters; abandoned asylums and haunted houses facinate me . I'd
love to get inside the head of a mentally disabled person and learn how they think, how
they see things, I want to understand them. I want to understand people but I can't even
understand myself. I am a walking paradox and in some cases I'm okay with that . I like
people that are short with their statements and people that make you work for things
rather than just handing it to you. I like to think that I am different because originality is
often mistaken for trying too hard and i don't want to be misplaced. I don't fit in with any
crowd, I am my own crowd. I don't need fake friends and false compliments, I don't need
anyone and I'm learning to accept that. I am incapable of being loved despite how many
times you tell me otherwise, my mind is set on the way I think and I cannot change that. I
am sad, so very sad. I am made up of my depression and that is all I am, things get
better but they don't stay that way permanatley, happiness is only temporary, it's not a
definate feeling. I have forever felt a strong disliking towards myself and I don't know how
not to. I do not fear death, I welcome it. I don't look both ways when crossing the street
and I'm not careful. I'm not afraid, I ache for a home that is nonexistent, and so I'll just
continue to exist rather than live until I not only fade, but completley burn out.
*anachronism*