Falling Bad

1- "Normal"

What is normal? It is nothing but a word that is the most uncertain thing in the world. Ever so changing and altering to a certain's point of view but deep down we all know we are not what it is.

We aren't normal.

A daily routine, a run to stabilize the unstable. Waking up everyday, at the same time, same route, same old same.

I hear horns honking like bees buzzing, a thousand in my ear. A little fellow dragging himself to the learning place met with a bright smile and all of a sudden, he's ecstatic to go in.

People see it, Normal.

Quietness suits me. It bring me peace every once in a while when unexpectedly noise struck me out. The silence after a rain is much placid that we get lost. Almost, until we are brought back to the loud buzz of reality.

Being normal.

To not become someone's topic of talk is my utmost ambition right now. There's been a time which I craved for the attention, but no more. I learned that asking for it wouldn't bring your love any closer to you unless they want to be close to you too.

So I run, in the most despicable desolate and muted time.

My life is pretty obvious.

It's all ordinary.

Everybody knows this kind of story. Somebody has heard of it too.

To be something to be noteworthy or extraordinary isn't my thing. Introverts as such are really hard to seek out.

That's what an introvert would say to themselves until they go out to into the reality, they are somebody else.

Deep down, it's still lonely and yearning for peace and serenity.

No strings attached.
Another thing I intend to follow. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't cut the strings to my own blood. Moving out was the only option.

In this lifeline, it's a shame to break away from your own. But if it's the only thing holding you down, it has got to go too.

But circumstances are such it never allows you to do what you want to do. The higher power above me wants something else and it suffocates me everyday to go through something that I never wish for myself nor anybody else.

DID is my mind at times, there's not one, not two but several ideas that just change and adjusts to different winds.

The wind, which slowly blew through my ears sent a chill down the spine. And *snap* my thought train stopped. I had ran longer than I should have. It's time to turn back. Time for reality. But still, down to my last place I can yet try to accelerate this fantasy. Thoughts that keep me occupied.

Keep me so engrossed that the real ones get so submissive until a blast reckon me back again to Tartarus.

Tartarus, the place where I live. I don't even want to call it home. It's just four walls. A square room. Nothing else. And there I suffer like the unwanted children of Ouranos. Alas! My own won't come for my rescue. I alone am to survive and crawl out of this. And crawl I will even if I have to break more than what has already been broken.

The path has been made, the ground work all laid and the stones aligned. All very secretively I did, all too well at pretending to be, I did, for the sake of myself.

Tissue I was, for people to use and throw and find me back again in the same bin they've put me to bane. They call me dirty, I'm not to be blamed...

Well, Partially,

for being naïve to believe in them.

Who actually is filthy? Nothing?

Not I! For heaven's sake.

Corrupt, Foul, deceitful and sleazy

So much anger but so little heat

Like a placid black lake I sleep, till my time comes to meet,

to get away,

from this Sweeny Todd's slum.

Swim Upriver from the deep

Right when the time is nigh, the most extra-unexpected-ordinary happens.

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Enjoy reading my imagination.

Love,

Writer.