I am tired of this dream, of this reality, forever pleading for insanity, knowing, wishing for this to leave me. I know it chases me, I see it never leaves me, a consumption to which meets no end… This insanity is something that brings the sane to their bow, it lets them see something ‘normal’, ’normal’. ‘Normal’, quite the interesting word, “conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected: it's quite normal for people to cry”. Normal, it’s what people strive for, work towards, and the people that don’t, fall. They never get up, people tell them “Get up!”, “Shake it off!”, never looking more than the skin deep, they don’t see any pain. On the inside they tremor, knowing they will never be their image, knowing they’ll never be normal. So what do they do? well most let that pain consume them, and their world becomes a void, non-existent of care or happiness, and dreams, the slim shutter between pain and joy; continue to fade. Others decide to stand, some can grab onto what’s left of reality while others, they sink faster, spiral into more pain, more depression, into reality, into themselves, until…. until they hit the truth when they can’t fall any more, they stand up high, higher than those that made them low, just to tie the last part of their life, a noose around their neck