Who knew life can be this difficult?
Fighting for survival and putting a façade in the unforgiving ecosystem that is high school has become the epitome of his existence.
When you watch people who are meant to make sure you survive walk out from you...
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People don't like different.
They like putting you inside a box. They label you for their own convenience. They want you to be who they want you to be.
When you step out and stop for a moment, you see where exactly you are.
You see yourself, standing before everybody else, and then realize how incongruous you are. How awful of a person you have become for trying so hard; for being exactly the opposite of who you wanted yourself to become.
Every time you look at your reflection on the mirror, you see a messed up stranger staring back.
You swim and stumble upon ruins and desolation. You let tidal waves of thoughts drown you into the deepest ocean of sinking hearts and muffled screams.
Survival has never been this difficult.
When you stare at the ceiling, your soul starts yelling self-deprecating soliloquy. You smile even though there's a void of emotions, you speak with shallow and forced words, you carry hundreds of hurricanes, and people will not notice.
They won't see how hard you're trying to hide the burgeoning insanity from the relentless society and when it gets out of hand; they'll say: 'It's just all in your head. Just look at the bright side.'
And then you ask: 'What if all I can see was darkness? What if I was walking on strings above the shards of shadows and doom? What if I was locked in a nightmare while awake? Where do I look?'
That's why you have to keep it all to yourself. When you let people get too close, you will end up losing them because they couldn't bear seeing your catastrophe. All your dark and twisty places inside.
Maybe it's not the same for everyone but aren't we all being chased by the silhouette of our own selves? The part of you that you keep from the light; the part of you that doesn't fit the standard. Maybe in different intensities but we all have our own dark sides, don't we?
Your mind is slowly becoming a representation of infinite destruction---a geode in reverse.
You die a thousand times in one lifetime. You see yourself in unpleasant situations you never imagined because when you were a kid, you thought that life was like a fairytale.
You blow candles even though it's not your birthday; hoping in that way, you'll grow up faster.
What were you thinking back then?
Do you still remember the time when you used to contain a fair amount of life in you? When was the last time you felt alive?
When did the avenue of paragon became boulevard of broken dreams?
