It is really difficult to deal with reality, when you, yourself is really not sure if this is reality, or not. It is really difficult to say how you feel when you're really not sure what you are feeling.
I'm Shane. I'm nineteen and a half years old, and I'm pretty sure I'm insane. The way everything feels like you live in a tiny box, and it is a though it shrinks every now and then. The state of battling whether this is real, or this is just a part of a trick your wicked brain is trying to pull on you. Seeing a deck of cards in front of you, and after blinking everything is gone, or was it really there before?
Shane. Damn, that name. When I was still at the Dad's I always hate that name. Shane. I always thought that is rhymes with the word "shame" which is no difference with me at all. No, none really. Now that I am here, I come to think of it, Shane does suits me well. It doesn't just rhyme with shame, it also rhymes with insane, like this current situation that I am in.
I can't say. I'm here with all these people, with the same condition as I am, with the same questions that I have, with the same burden that I carry. Our lives intertwine with the parallel agony of insanity but differs in the story.
Was I really part of this community, or I just feel like it, and not really having and experiencing the insanity? That is one of that dread thought I am thinking. I have this thin fine line that could just be erased and loose it all. Snap the reality and slip towards the madness where I can't see anything.
Now, tell me what is this really? Now, I am starting to question my age too. Fuck.
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Profanities and Love Letters
PoetryI would never be the person who would make your heart skip a beat, I would never be the person who would remind you of sad songs, I would never be the person to be with you during coffee, I would never be the person who you would love forever in thi...
