To hear the phrase, "They can smell fear" repeatedly which implies human can smell fear is a myth.
Wolves, dogs, lions and cats can smell fear which is true.
Humans can see fear in body language, tone of voice, the way a person breathes and in the way eyes move.
Humans can sense fear with the gazing of the eyes because the eyes reveal everything.
Humans acting confident and actually being confident are two totally different things.
Humans are inclined to benefit of the doubt, nervousness, socially awkwardness, believing in humanity too much and believing in humanity too little.
The Scent of Desperation is the trembling of the hands, the waver in the voice, the heavy breathing and the wobbly walk.

The Ancient History of Anglo-Saxonism started off with the English to the French because cultures aren't the same therefore different.
Being different isn't bad and being all the same isn't good.
If everything is the same then nothing is interesting and there would be no cultures to learn from. If by Trump standards making America White Again means getting rid of diversity and new ideals because the American Dream is a fairytale. Chances of becoming a millionaire is a ratio 1 in 1,000 meaning slim to none.
Ancient History teaches us: Hubris is humanity's downfall, Small gods still have backstories, everyone have weaknesses and greed is fruitless. I am not saying conquering places is evil, I am saying ancient history means starting new chapters not repeating past mistakes.

Being classified as the The Mom Friend in America is like being complimented and praised at the same time.
Being The Mom Friend is worrying about your friends like they are children and acting as though anything will **** them like starvation, exhaustion, heat stroke, hypothermia, and frostbite to name several.
Being The Mom Friend you do research on anything personally and talk about facts to them as if it's gossip which it isn't.
Being The Mom Friend means feeding your friends, reminding them on road trips about anything important, caring about their hygiene, overpacking for school trips so nothing goes wrong and being the alpha female by loving them unconditionally.
I generally think most women don't know what an alpha female is in a wolf pack because scientifically alpha wolves care for the pack and never backs down from a fight unless killed off in a territorial war with another alpha wolf. People would have to do research on red and gray wolves to know that.

My parents call me the only normal kid of the family which is a nice cover story but the reality is that I am the weird, rebellious, special needs kid with a silver tongue and a heart of gold.
My siblings call me weird, an old soul, an elder person, an enigma and annoying. That's more accurate.
Normal is Boring, it's insulting to my intelligence to be called normal by my parents.
Normal is Boring, I don't like the word normal because it's full of false tales and societal expectations.

I didn't get as much attention from my parents as my two older siblings did. But I did win the hearts of both of my parents.
My dad loves me in the traditional sense the way a father can love his daughters and son. I may be the 3rd born. I am one of the middle children with my big brother. My dad always went to my cross country meets and defended my sanity to my mom every time.
My mom loved me by forcing me into a dress, with her cold gazes my way, her warm hugs, her night kisses on my cheek, her lectures, her timeouts when I was being sassy and her my way or the highway approach to disciplining me and my siblings. I chose to be gentle, loving, caring and selfless because I saw the darkness inside my mom at a young age. I have a good, dysfunctional family. My brother may have an ego, a no judgement approach to life, wants everyone to be his friend, selfless, gentle and loving. My big sister the oldest of my siblings and my little sister the youngest of my siblings both chose to be judgemental, cold to those they hate, warm to those they love, having anger issues, always cool and collected by calculating their next move in life. I learned to be fearless, stubborn, full of surprises, unpredictable, out-spoken and stoic because that's how I thrived by being different from my sisters and mother. If nobody can read my motives then I can do whatever I want within reason without breaking the law. My big brother always cared too much about what anybody thought of him but he have always respected my choices, my creative lifestyle and me because I was always the rebel of the family.

My perspective isn't based off of my emotions most of time.
I write because I am passionate about difficult subjects.
I may be insane but my voice is still valid.
I don't question what I can't control because I know I can't control my mental illnesses. I do research about multiple things when I am passionate about topics. I have a lot of wisdom because I learn so much from my experiences. I accept the fact that it is generational in my family to be narcissistic so I got rid of my ego entirely and just stayed empathetic. I got rid of my hatred and my judgemental aspects as though they were phases in my personality because I didn't want to be like the rest of my family. My grandma, my dad, my big brother and my little sister still have flaws but they aren't narcissistic.
I am a high functioning sociopath but I choose be warm and loving because I don't want to become bitter and heartless.

No one is 100 percent pure good and no one is 100 percent pure bad.
That is life. We can fictionalize, romanticize and fantasize life as much as we want but that doesn't change people nor the patriarchy.
I see the Good and I observe the Bad.
I grew up going to daycare when both of my parents were busy.
I grew up going to Pegasus Cafe' with my little sister every summer.
I grew up with parents who divorced when I was 7 but always supported my creative lifestyle and always put food on the table.
I grew up resourceful, artistic, special needs classes, lots of therapy which I appreciated because I became a strong, capable young woman.
I grew up with parents who always gave me Christmas presents no matter how poor we were because being middle class Americans doesn't mean I had everything.
I wasn't spoiled with past glory from cross country like my older siblings. I wasn't spoiled with hundreds of friends like my older siblings. I was just me the nerdy, book-loving, small group of trusted friends, video game addict, who have a vocabulary like an English teacher and will take all of the hard roads because they are more fun since anything that is too easy is never true.
Reality is crazy and fantasy is insane so to know the difference is through experience.

When I Say that I have a misfit army that lead then I mean I can assemble them with a beacon of distress and they will be there no matter how long it takes them to be there. My warriors are not to be messed with they are witty, fun-loving and vengeful. Being well read and bullied to the point of wanting to prove everyone wrong does that to a person.
When I Say that I have a wild side I mean I have two different wild sides, one calm, cool and collected to predict everyone's actions and the other fierce, unbreakable and fearless to bring anyone to their weakness.
When I Say that I know how to love it's because my experiences that I can make anyone a mellow, warm hearted person with just a gaze and a conversation.
When I Say that I have met angels, demons and monsters I mean people are all those things it just depends what it behind their mask.
When I Say that I fought wars with myself I mean I have through hell and back so many times that I have lost count.

Living to full potential is wonderful, a hero's journey, a villain's nightmare and a rebel's dream.
Some people don't know how so they get lost in the world and blend in.
Some people have a direction and forget the passion then live an empty life.
Some people have so much passion and so many directions that they take all of them to live a successful, memory-enriched life.
Some people simply exist and have nothing to live for then they live a soulless, heartless life where bitterness is their motive.
Life has meaning you just need to find it.

Society is full of stereotypes and bigotry.
Bureaucracy defines how incapable people are to take care of themselves.
The Government determines how disabled someone is from to physical to mental health.
Not all institutions care for the people no matter how ill they are.
Not all heroes care for the disabled. Tear away the mask and what is left of humanity to care for incurable misfits who just want to live?
Mental illnesses aren't curable just full of treatments like medicines, therapies and doctors.
Psychotic breaks aren't curable just appeared to be crazy illusions of a mad person. Which they aren't always wrong just smarter than the average human sometimes.

With Schizophrenia and Bipolar Disorder they cancel each other out.
I can't always be emotionless and I can't always be a hot mess of emotions.
I express everything in a brutally honest way.
I don't always know when I cross someone's boundaries because I like getting into the deep, soulful things.
I forget the rules of communication a lot because I am curious as every writer is. I enjoy finding truths in the darkness.
I don't have a filter for all of my thoughts. They spill out all at once.
People find it weird for my young age that I seek knowledge from books in the library rather than online resources.
I search deeply for answers to my life's questions from the library because stories ring with truths. I am rebellious I don't want answers from my parents all of the time. Normally my researches are fruitful.
If I know what I am searching for then I am on the right path. On the right mindset. You can't be lost if you know which direction you are going.

I know I want good friendships which I already have.
I know I want a good family which it's dysfunctional but it's fine with me.
I know I want to eliminate anything that is bad for spiritually wise.
I know I want a lover one day but not yet.
I know I want a good career which I am developing with every ounce of my being.
I know what I want from life and I enjoy what I can. It's a good life sometimes dramatic, sometimes messy, sometimes complex and sometimes dark yet still worth living.

I have grown muscular, thin and stronger with every year.
I have out grown my old clothes: my hand-me-downs, my Christmas presents, my old band and cross country t-shirts.
My SGA polo still fits me. I haven't changed that much.
I just have more pounds on me and I am medicated.
I still eat healthy and walk around town.
I still have coffee every morning and I still read a lot.
I still write a lot and I still love music. I haven't changed that much.
I still got my endless quirks and a sense of humor. I am better than before just medicated.

I fix every broken thing in my life: my closest friends, my family dynamics, my acquaintances perspectives and my church friends terms of validation.
I like broken things. They are beautiful in the mundane. They are bizarre and I enjoy what I can. I create social solutions in the matter of minutes. I am broken minded and broken hearted I guess that makes me the most broken of all of my things.
With a early deteriorating mind and manic depressive insanity anything that has a good soul to it is beautiful to me. I observe potential in people and sometimes I help them flourish as humans.
It's what I do. I do what I can but I never invalidate them.
I have seen the worst in humans and the best in people it's lonely sometimes. I get used to it. To be insane is to embrace what you can.
I like broken things. That's my thing and I live without regret for caring.

I have taught you communication and social interaction skills but you never listen. I try my best to care for your surface level chats which I never interrupt. You are shallow minded, lonely, friendless and hopeless. You think me caring for your over the top emotional outbursts is a sign of romantic love.
It isn't and it never have been. I gave up on men because of you. But you don't know that. You just see what you want to see. You bring out the worst in people. You describe everyone who ever cares about you as monsters because you are one. You disgust me with your talk of sleeping with my friends and little sister. You disrespect me and everyone in my life because you think you are superior to them.
No matter how many lectures I give you, you never listen to me.
We would never work together as a couple. I know that but you don't.
I break your heart over and over again because you never learn.
You think you reach my standards but you are beneath me in so many ways. I am too good for you and you are just a bad influence.
You never fight your demons but let me fight them for you. It's emotionally draining being your friend.

I babysit this grown man who is a sexist, depressive, boring and unusually suicidal for a scientist.
He is a complete idiot who don't understand communication and social interaction. Hence why I am his only friend. He is a year older than me. But he is immature, human and sometimes vulnerable.
He doesn't wear a mask around me. I know he is a monster, he is obnoxious and annoying. He keeps telling me he loves me and cares about me but I don't feel it. I refuse to think that maybe he will get the hint that I won't date and marry him. Because I have gave him the benefit of the doubt too many times which I normally end up hurt and more heart-broken than before. I won't end up a victim to a narcissistic man. I guess it's awareness or maybe it's me giving up on him. I don't know which. I am just not sure whether I want to burn the bridge or not.

Hierarchy implies there is an established ranking system.
Anarchy implies we live in a dystopian world.
Would if both perspectives are right? Elaborate with me if you will.
Traditionalism is a way of ranking people by values. Militarism is a way to rank people by status. Therefore the status quote is a mixture of traditionalism and militarism. Vaping give people wet lung disease at the worst and Smoking causes lung cancer so in a way buying into consumerism we are drugging ourselves to an oblivion.
Drinking is a way to stimulate happiness but it doesn't get rid of depression.

To be stoic and emotionless is praised upon.
To be emotional and heart-broken is frowned upon.
Let Men Have Emotions, all that toxic masculinity isn't good for anyone.
Let Men Have Emotions, they don't get live much without them.
Let Men Have Emotions, the ******* who rule the earth aren't allowing themselves to feel at all.
Let Men Have Emotions, not all sweet boys are gay and not all angry men are straight.

I saw people from my past. It was good.
Now I am tired and soulfully exhausted.
The responsibility of being a spiritual Christian.
I grew up at church which overall I had no freewill of being a Christian. It was expected in my small town.
Being rebellious is basically building upon thought-crimes where Big Brother is always watching you. There is always new gossips and rumors. I have always rebelled in my own way I would rather be a vagabond writer than a practical scientist. Logic isn't my enemy but it doesn't help me when I make creative cases against humanity.
I am well read, well researched, always making elaborate plans to get out of this town and standing out the best I can.
To go against traditions makes you the black sheep of the family, to be different is to have the label weird brandished across your heart and to hold your truths by biting your tongue. Oh the world that we live in where eras and renaissances are just ancient history.

You never realize you miss someone until you lose them.
I always feel like I am forgetting something or someone.
My heart starts aching as if a part of me is missing from me.
It's like I want to go through my good memories but it's the what if I end up breaching to the bad memories and mentally meltdown that gets me. Staring into space and daydreaming isn't praised by society.
I want to mentally reflect without psychologically relapsing. But my meds regulate my mood swings and depression. So naturally I can't be sad or depressed without feeling sick to my stomach and feeling like I can't breathe because my meds wouldn't allow me to feel that.
Sometimes I want to cry and scream in grief but I physically can't.
It's as though I can't be fully human. So naturally I get furious for not being able to be sad and depressed. It is the worst feeling hopelessly distant.

I never thought people cared what I thought of and the words I speak.
I never thought people wanted to listen to my advice and my nerdy pop culture and book references.
I never thought being a creative writer and a poet would turn people's heads my direction.
I never thought knowing psychology, sociology and science facts based off of past random passions would have people wondering my hobbies.
I never thought I was worth genuine smiles and laughter from my closest friends.
Turns out I am worth it all. I am worth loving and caring even though I am a lot to handle. I am worth the warm hugs and real conversations. I am worth the confused looks and smug grins I get from normal people. I outsmart anyone that I don't trust because I am always three steps ahead. I can read the expressions, emotional signals and over inflated egos easily. I tear down walls with a single glance and meltdown glass doors of the soul with a thoughtful comment.

I am used to being in role of victim. Having my energy ****** out of me by dark forces isn't fun.
Having my heart drained of love and warmth till there is nothing for me. Every shower I try to get rid of the feeling of awfulness that comes with being an empath. I want to care too much, love too much and be the imperfect me. I can't do that when parts of me that I enjoy caring for are exhausted, tainted and impure with emotions of others.
I can't function when I don't have all of my wits and strengths.
I can't function when I lose my mind.
I can't function when I am not all there.
I envy people who can socialize without feeling like you aren't enough for the crowds. I don't trust many and unconditionally love few. I am not perfect and I don't try to be perfect.

I have nothing to do.
I have nothing to say.
Maybe it's the rain. Maybe it's this exhausted feeling inside of me.
Maybe it's the day.
Hours tick by. Minutes are gone in a blink of an eye. Just because I wanted to do research on my mental illnesses.
I feel complete and bored. I wrote down everything I read.
Yet I still feel tired and useless. I didn't cure my mental illnesses by reading about them I am just more aware about them.

Trends are discovered by science and crowds.
Bigots are discovered by newspaper outlets and the media.
You can't really say life is a one way street.
Dorothy had the yellow brick road or the red brick road.
People told her which way to go.
We will never know what was on that red brick road.
Charts aren't all Math. The same not all scientists are evil.
Media have all kinds of perspectives it's the finding the right one that is where creativity is.

I love Sherlock quotes. I love Sherlock the show, Sherlock Holmes the movie series and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I just understand Sherlock with his madness and witty insults. He may be a detective and his best friend Dr. Watson is a writer.
I guess madness goes both ways. Sherlock is canonically is a high functioning sociopath and I am a high functioning sociopath too.
Speaking the truth is easy for us because normal people are slow, all the same, boring and have cases that should put them in therapy.
I am a writer and Sherlock is a detective, the smallest details of a person are important just most people choose to ignore them.
Yes I am making a faux pas. I am good at it.
They may see but they don't observe. Poor narrow minded humans never seeing the big picture at the small details.

I know life makes everyone busy.
Life makes heroes spout out lies and villains monologue about truths.
Deep Down no one is perfect.
Deep Down there is no flawless human. Humans collect secrets over the years. Humans are afraid of their past selves. Humans can't look in the void of darkness without losing their minds of the silence.
Humans betray and abandon each other because popularity tempted them to throw everything they hold dear including their feelings.
Deep Down no one is 100 percent good and no one is 100 percent evil.
That is lie and a myth that humans create to degrade themselves.
Deep Down the insane are free of society's chains and the sane live in comfort of their prisons.
Deep Down the mask is facade of lost dreams and the cloak is to hide emotional scars.

I understand a lot of things for my young age which makes me crazy somehow. I don't understand normal people and normalcy.
I am not normal because I have always been weird and beautiful.
My outer beauty doesn't define me. My heart and mind defines me.
Falling in Love isn't The Mistake. It is the losing your mind over someone who doesn't love you back that makes it a mistake.
Falling in Love shouldn't be about outer beauty or compatibility.
Falling in Love shouldn't be whether the person has a rich family nor their friends ignorance. Falling in Love should be about whether you enjoy who they are, their friends sense of humor and seeing if they have an unspoken honor code. I haven't found my person yet. But someday I hope whoever they are will love me back and will be fine with my boundaries.

I see through people's acts of fakeness and observe their insecurities as well as their hidden secrets. It's fun for me.
I never have to pretend to bored or exhausted around holier-than-thou people at church. It's normally the same stories but different traumas. The kids my age are spur-of-the-moment thrill junkies with different motivations. I get bored observing the same stories.
With geniuses there are unusually bizarre good stories. Each unique and their own. With curious minds you tend to gain a lot of experiences from life.

I gave up on hate a long time ago. I have no grudges of hate left to care for. They were too heavy to hold so I forgave my enemies.
I learned to drop the baggage behind the past.
I placed a cape on my shoulders and learned how to fly.
When I gave up on my grudges of hate I was free of all that heaviness.
I tore off the blinders society gave me and learned to run wildly.
On the surface I am mild mannered, sweet girl with a silver tongue but beneath I am a crazy genius three steps ahead of the crowd with wits as strong as steel. I never needed validation, I just needed people I can call home. In a way my hometown isn't really home, it's the people I became best friends with that made it home.
I am vengeful because my past gave me motivation to be a good person, not because I ever want revenge on anyone.

I have been told once that I should be a politician.
I may understand politics and unusual facts but I don't want to be fake, bitter and consumed by other people's opinions about me.
Too much drama and too much stress.
Living in a religious small town I had to create own thoughts and ideas so I didn't have to be brainwashed by societal norms.
I may be spiritual but I am not religious. Religious just sounds too starched collar for me. Spiritual just sounds more open minded and natural for me. The Spiritual people I meet are more accepting while Religious people can't go 5 seconds without arguing with an atheist.
I know the difference I grew up in my church. Everything is a routine including socializing at church.

I may be a vengeful angel but I have a lot of demons from my past.
I always want to be better than my past selves.
I evolve each year sharpening my wits and accepting outcasts to my misfit army.
The misfits deserve a fairytale love so why not love them like they are a found family? All the best heroes have a found family.
I may not be a hero but I am a rebel with a big heart. I am not considered super because I am a special needs kid. People either want to smother me with support or treat me like I am normal when I am not.
There is no in-between. There are no cures for anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and being a high functioning sociopath. There are medications and treatments but those can't get rid of mental conditions. The meds don't get rid of the stigma normal people put into society with harmful stereotypes.

I woke up with my long term memory blank.
It took a cup of coffee to regain it all back.
Strolling downtown I panicked and went to the art gallery.
I couldn't breathe and felt hungry so I went into a cafe'.
I kept reading everyone true emotions and everything felt loud.
My heart was pounding in my chest and my brain kept trying finding to calm me down. I had to leave the cafe' and brought my food with me. But I couldn't eat and I felt like vomiting. I threw away my food.
I walked into my church and went to my hiding place to catch my breath. I felt hopeless like a piece of me was missing and I wanted to cry, to scream in pain. But my mind was on overdrive and my heart was going at double time. I walked out of my church and walked home. I could breathe but nothing felt right.

I shouldn't have more stuff in common with an old lady than I do with someone my own age. I may be an old soul and geniuses are great to hangout with. But chasing dreams to make them a reality is hard work and makes you busy. I work twice as hard to live in this world. With my trust issues, mental illnesses and always being honest no matter who I talk to life is difficult. I have to balance everything out so my mind don't go out of whack and my heart doesn't end up a hot mess. I have back pain and short memory loss at age 21.
I am a bisexual woman so I constantly have to hide in the closet in my religious small town.

I used to chat with you behind the staircase in the back of the old sanctuary in the church.
We used to used to pray together. Now we are adults and I hardly ever see you. I hardly ever get to talk to you.
I hardly even get to know how you are doing. You were a part of me and now I don't even trust you. Did your hubris take you away from me? Was your singing career more important than our friendship?
Why did you let your biphobia reject me for who I am? Did you ever really love and care for me? People change. How are you so childish?
Our Hiding Place is still Sacred to me. What about you?
You would be nothing without me and to think you were going to be my Dr. Watson. We have a wall between us. I took down all of mine.
Why don't you trust me? You with the picture perfect family.
You the poster child for praise band. We used to be unstoppable and now we don't even know what to talk about. I tore away your mask and you are a monster behind those beautiful green eyes.
You who don't understand humanity. You weren't ever really weird to begin with you only said that to get close with me.
Your words used to mean something true and now all think about is how you betrayed me. I was a vulnerable 18 year old coming out to you and you chose to hate me. Now I never let you in because you damaged me.

He is tall, reeks of sweat and gas station food.
He leaves a mess in the kitchen of the gas station.
You don't care who you make clean your messes as long as you leave beforehand. You got a girl pregnant, it's your life.
I don't know how you still got a job at the gas station.
Your girl works harder than you do.
Everyone knows it. So drop the entitle white guy act and actually do your job better.

Overstimulation is pain across the mind and not being able to breathe. It's a high that health class doesn't cover.
The Edge of feeling anxious and tired is like wanting to sleep but not being able to. It's as though the air is heavier and moving around feels pointless. You don't need a textbook to know the equilibrium is off in the brain. It's wanting to scream in agony but not being able to.
It *****.

Some stages never come down and the people stuck in their own shows. All of the acting and pretending to be something they are not.
Ask them revealing questions and they give you a real, deep answer then they stopped acting for you.
Surprise them by stop acting like a demigod or a demon. Masks may be good props but horrible excuses to explain to someone. Use real resources not fake, plastic curtains. Society may like fakers and pretend people but real people don't like any of that.
Living a peaceful life is fun, relaxing and honest.
What does drama give you? A lot of ******* and consequences to deal with.

When I wander I am never lost just exploring the world in my own way. When I aim for my dreams I try my best to not to get caught up in the clouds. When I go mad my reality is lucid and real.
When I go sad I associate that mood with a memory.
When I go delusional I do damage control as fast as I can.
I didn't lose me. I have never lost me.
When I lose my mind I come up with battle strategies to protect myself. Whenever I lose my mind it's always about preserving myself from the cruel, dark world around me.
I didn't lose me. That's my achievement.
I may scare people with my insanity but I am worth getting past the stigma. I have always known that.

That night I felt her naked body beneath my hands.
That night I felt her lips against mine. The passion and the pain of making love. Her blue eyes and dark brown hair.
Those rosy red lips and that smile. Her enjoying my wild side and me taking in her madness. Before we even touched I was dressed as Rao and her as Christine from The Phantom of the Opera.
I woke up the next morning with a freshly bitten ear and my shins bruised also I walked with a limp. Then the rumors that slept with a girl.
I don't know what to say what is dream and what is reality. I guess it was real. The rumors made it from my college to my religious small town. I only told one person that secret and whoever that was told the whole school. I don't remember ever leaving my bed that night but somehow that dream was a reality.

I never had to hide my madness. I am crazy and insane.
Madness is my home. It isn't a fickle feeling or a short wisp of happiness. It's embracing every flaw and painting a new reality every day. It's existing in a thriving state of being human. It's evolving to a better version of yourself to feel accomplished in every human way possible.
Madness is my home. I never have to pretend to be me. My reality changes with every mood-swing. Each panic attack, anxiety attack and depressive episode gives me new awareness of my reality.
Noticing every small detail in a person comforts me in a weird way.
Madness is my home. I have trust issues, mental illnesses and a collection of trauma. This is how I live and I love every minute of it.

You have blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.
You work at Coffee Boy's coffee shop.
You were a normal, popular girl in high school.
You always glanced at me in the hallways because of the rumors and the gossip about me. You are my friend somehow.
I don't know for some odd reason you like having conversations with me. You have a boyfriend and got your dental assistant certificate.
You have a couple of friends from high school. I have an army I made myself. I have big dreams with emotional scars and you are trying to get through life with your homeostasis. We live in two totally different worlds. You have a trust fund and I have to work for my paycheck. What is it like to be normal? Because I don't know what popularity feels like. What are your best battle strategies? Because I need to know what kind of ally you are. I don't trust people easily because people like you abandon people like me when it doesn't benefit you. I inherently don't trust popular people with my dark secrets because they are complete idiots to grim realities.

I may be crazy and I like the high from pain meds and CBD give me.
I am not addicted to drugs. I just enjoy the few fours of the giddiness I get. It's just occasionally when I have a migraine from loud noises and when my anxiety acts up I will take a couple of Advil.
I only put CBD lip balm on my lips when I need a quick pick me up.
Those don't interfere with my mental meds.
I know how to take care of myself. I do my research. I know what I am doing.

Your blonde hair dyed brunette with painted black fingernails.
Your lost blue eyes and bad boy reputation.
You built yourself a drinking problem from partying in high school.
You have never a found a lover after a girl broke your heart in high school.
You normal, popular white boy in a religious high class town.
You always seemed lost in the crowds from small town traditions to school dances. You didn't fit in this town either. I know you don't know what you want to do with your life just figure it out so you can escape this town and your lost glory days.
I just feel sorry for you.

You with your precious learning blue eyes and tan skin.
You regulate your blood sugar problem known as Type 1 Diabetes.
You are the new kid and an intelligent kid at work. You are the boss's pet. You try so hard to please everyone else it's adorable.
You are a good friend and a hard-worker.
We trade life stories and nobody cares what we talk about.
You aren't an idiot and I like that about you.

He thinks everyone is an idiot so himself is one too.
You with your demanding blue eyes and smelling of **** when clocking in to work. You normal, average micromanaging man who thinks because you were popular in high school you can rule everything. You aren't the boss of me. You entitled idiot.
I am too smart for you. I may have been the special needs kid but at least I know what people think of me. You with your superiority complex it will get you no where. I hope your vaping habit give you wet lung disease.

In a world full of self-absorbed people who have inferiority and superiority complexes it's impossible to know if you are handling a demon or an angel.
Filtered Conversations is like selecting a small percentage of your personality and standing on a stage telling the world a story.
I have no filter I will pick a topic and read the room. Some will call me an old soul and others will call me mature for my age.
It's the same label either way.

Peel away the mask. What will I find? Beauty? Ugliness? A beast caught up in a fake life? Or a human hiding in the shadows terrified of being alone?
Peel away the mask. Are you a misunderstood villain? Or a hero praised for being a kiss up?
Peel away the mask. What dark secrets are you hiding? Who are you without the mask?
I don't see the point of hiding your agenda the truth comes out eventually. I don't see the point of collecting secrets behind a mask because there isn't much to hide in an invading society.
See each detail, evaluate the destruction behind the mask and release yourself from the mask.
What ghouls are you hiding behind the mask?

Flaws are what make us human. So is creating human connections.
We need other humans to love us and value us because part of being human is not wanting to be alone. Loneliness is a silent killer in most humans. Depression cause people wanting to inflict pain on themselves because they don't want to be a burden or suicide because you can't be a burden dead. Cause and effect is what science calls the consequences of others actions. People who roam in packs take on animalistic lifestyles. As science puts it roaming in packs brings the fear of individualism. I have always been a lone wolf because it took me awhile to find my people. I enjoy leading a small crowd, reading to form my own opinions and writing to become a better version of myself. In a way my loneliness made me mysterious to other people. Hanging out with geniuses turns out I wasn't the only lone wolf who needed a pack. I don't need to be validated by big crowds in order to be happy. I have a small group of best friends who I trust with my life. Fitting in was never the issue it was hiding my weird personality quirks that scared me from the animalistic lifestyle. The thing that makes me mysterious to other people is my mental illnesses. People who claim that everyone is weird clearly never met actual weird people. Normal people may be animalistic but they are also stupid due to fitting in. I guess pleasing other people made them forget to form their own opinions. Who is the idiot who claimed that and made everyone believe it's true? Human connection is important but so is having your own mind. Being brainwashed into a modern, animalistic society that doesn't give a **** about your life is just giving society what they want and that is feeding their inferiority complexes by spilling stories about personal, intrusive events.

Last Night, my PTSD acted up kept giving me flashbacks putting into agony across my body from grief to paralyzing pain throughout all of my muscles.
Last Night, I couldn't breathe and had tremors. I kept rolling in my bed in pain and overstimulated from the flashbacks. By the time I could breathe I still couldn't get out of my bed without falling back into my bed.
Last Night, the fireworks brought back memories of last summer and my fear of being alone in the dark from when I was a kid. I talked nonsense into the darkness but I couldn't sleep. I was staring into the darkness and my pulse was still pounding in my chest at double time.
Last Night, It took splashing cold water on my face to throw up my dinner into the sink feeling my throat burning and all my weight going straight to my legs. Everyone was asleep because it was the 3rd of July and midnight. Me being sensitive to light and sound I never liked going to big social events to see fireworks and I loathed parades because the sirens hurts my ears but I always enjoyed the marching band. I always hated pageants because I knew deep down even as a kid that wasn't real beauty no matter how rich the kids were riding on the back of fancy cars. Pageants in the Midwest is what you expect drama, pettiness, vicious girls dressing up for a status quote show. The tiaras were plastic and fake much like the shows. The trophies metal and cold like the girls who were fighting for them. I was always bored at the interludes for the pageants. It's like no I may be beautiful but I won't put myself in a bikini so judges can degrade me on my thin, muscular figure.

My big sister married a farm Catholic boy in her grade at age 22.
I was 16 years old and one of her bridesmaids. I am proud of my big sister who was Christian converted to Catechism for him. Catholics enjoy gossips and rumors as much as Christians do. They have their routine and we have ours. My family being Christian middle class and the in-laws being rich farmers who happen to be Catholic it was good for my big sister to marry that farmer boy because they dated for 5 years then he proposed to her during Christmas. They have a great love story. Their daughter and sons are my niece and nephews. But once we have to socialize with his family it's awkward. It's getting closer to their 5th year anniversary. As I said in one of my earlier poems I don't like big crowds it's draining for me.