I've been thinking lately. About a lot of things.
I've been thinking about God. About if it's a he or a she. About if they even meant to create this world, or whether they simply just... stumbled onto it. Accidentally waved their hand doing something else, and suddenly...
POOF!
Here we are. Here. Ready, raring to go.
Is it a he or a she? Is it a feeling or love? Is it real? Does it even watch? Do they even know I'm here? Does it even fucking realise how fucking lost I am?
HUH?!
Did they really mean for us to fight each other? To kill each other? To scrap for things as simple as food, water, and a roof over our heads? Some land? A piece of FUCKING EARTH?!
...
I'm thinking about a lot of things.
Are we just the experiment? The rehearsal before the show? The sketch before the drawing? The piece before the real thing? The first...
Or the last?
I've been thinking about love. That chemical reaction that science nor reason can explain. The one thing I wish I had control over, yet fall victim to it every single time. Isn't it just primal? Do I just want to fuck these people, or do I truly want to spend my life with them? I don't know, and I don't think anyone else knows.
I've acted in a way for a long time that most would call 'civil.' 'Calm.' 'Quiet.'
But now, it's 10. I've just finished watching a movie from Netflix. Alone. I feel hurt: Why do I have to suffer alone? Why is it only me who seems to be stuck here?
So I get my phone, and I snap every girl who's just as desperate and as alone as I am.
Hey.
Hey, how are you?
I'm just getting into bed, u?
I was just laying here thinking 'bout you ;)
Oh, really? Aha, why's that?
Well... I'm bored.
Is that all I am?
And I'll tell her the truth:
.... Yeah, it is.
I don't even like them: I just want someone else to feel the same dull empty HOLLOW FUCKING THINGS I FEEL EVERY DAY
Maybe I have something against everyone else but myself. Maybe I'm just lost. Maybe I don't know what I'm doing or where the fuck I'm going. Maybe I'm just riding out the wave, kicking and punching and burning everything and everyone trying to take me away to safety. Maybe, deep down, deep, deep down, I know I'm about to hit the edge of this wave. Maybe I just... Don't care anymore.
But now? Now, after 10PM?
They'd describe me differently: 'Feral.' 'Backwards.' 'Twisted.' 'Sick.'
Sick...
Have you ever been called sick? It messes with you. Deeply messes with you, to the point where you start to notice how truly fucking sick you are. It twists you until you look into the mirror and see those long claws and those sharp teeth and those eyes that tear their way into your own fucking soul-
I'm thinking about a lotta things.
I'm thinking about horses. The idea that one person can support another for only a simple meal? The idea that those beasts, with all that power, all that raw tension, simply submit themselves to something weaker for a guaranteed meal and a shelter that's equivalent to mud and a few sticks?
I mean, I can't talk. Isn't that what I do? Isn't that what WE ALL DO?!
I've been thinking about Dad. If he was still around, he'd be... fuck, I don't even know how old he'd be. I don't even know what having him around would really do for me, or for anyone.
