The Overthinking Addict

Who am I?

Who am I? Well this can take a while. I'm a realist. With the hue of a hopeless romantic. I want what I cannot have, that being the impossible and then I bitch about it never happening. I crave freedom, not to be physically free but to control the thoughts in my head. I sometimes fantasize about my funeral but at the same time I want to live and not just half alive because that's what I am. I want to be the adventure that everyone desires in their life. To sky dive, jumping and floating through mid air without plummeting to the ground like all my hopes and dreams. Because all I am is a hope and dream. But a hope, a dream that no one wants to have because as harmless as it seems, I'm the awkward side of mediocrity. I'm the daughter parents kept locked away from the world. A prisoner in my own home, my own mind. I could not escape the 5pm curfew that kept me in. Especially after ten at night when this dream that I am, becomes a nightmare. And now I'm not skydiving, I'm just free falling into an abyss. Shouting, screaming, over thinking, sinking in an ocean of rampant ill thoughts and I'm anchored at the bottom. I want to be free. Anchor less, without these burdens upon my shoulders, the weight of the universe, I want to be the light soul that flutters without lingering. But my words, our memories, the mental picture I'm painting for you, I hope it lingers through your head. I hope it crosses the T's and dots all the I's in the back of your mind because trust me IT lingers. Alcohol and a good puff? I get drunk off of a canvas of starry nights and crescent moons. I inhale the whipping winds and exhale the clouds over the moon. I'm the reason all you see are stars in the sky. I'm the reason the sun fell in love with Luna. The reason the clouds hide their romances. Like an ancient Romeo and Juliet. Only on special occasions they cross each other's paths. Only on strange nights while I'm asleep they eclipse each other and I miss it. Because when I'm asleep, everything is better. I'm a poison to this earth. But I'm the reason for your days and nights. And when you look out your window at dawn, I'm the reason there's someone you say hello and goodbye to. I may seem awful but my intentions are pure. I'm irony at its best. An oxymoron if you will. But without life, and blood coursing through my veins. Without the air that fills my lungs, what once was, will be no more. Because although I'm valuable in the lives of many, there's others who just don't get me.