Perspective

Dan

D:
No one sees the world like I do - no one ever will.

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Chocolate - the colour of my eyes. Everyone adores chocolate; even I used to. But I don't feel the sensation of the sweet cocoa dancing along my tastebuds. I just taste nothing.

I lack senses. I'm not deaf, nor blind; I hear the voices abusing my name; I see the ruby blood running down my pale skin. Nevertheless, hearing is not listening and seeing is not understanding. I'm empty.

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I'm a freak.

A freak, an outcast, whatever you want to call it. I've heard it all. I am 'it'.

I want to feel something other than what I feel now but it's locked inside me. It's a part of me and even if I rip it out I'll just be left with a deeper void. I don't know what it is and therefore I don't know who - or what- I am anymore.

I mean I have a name. I'm Dan. Or Daniel. Either is fine. I'm 17 and that's all you or most people need to know. I drag myself to school and back in a daze. I cant remember anything from the last couple years, it's just a blurry mess. 

Not like I give a shit anyway. People are assholes so there's not much to remember. No golden memories and shared spiritual connections. My companion is my music - my crappy headphones that are a pain to unravel every fucking time. It's an escape from reality and it cleanses my mind, just like water cleanses blood from my bruised forehead.

SHIT. I do this all the time. I have school tomorrow and it's 3:47 am.

I wish I didn't have thoughts, all they do is get in the way and push me further away from socialising. Every single night i stay up talking to myself in a sort of therapeutic way as if someone's listening. It's a defence mechanism probably. To make me feel worth something to someone. To stop me from giving up.