Dec 2011
I don’t know how to feel about anything anymore,
I just don’t,
It’s neither here nor there,
Not hidden just never gotten to,
I can never fully open up to anyone,
But then again who really can?
Sometimes I feel empty,
But I soon remind myself how selfish it is to feel that way,
How much suffering there is in the world,
How much I have to be thankful for,
But it’s not the things I have that make me happy,
It’s the people I know and the connections I have.
The only sadness I harness commences from the loss of human contact,
With the loss of a friend,
Being away from family,
Feeling like we’ll never be the same again,
No matter what it’s like I can always be to blame,
For something.
For not stopping what’s wrong,
For not doing what’s right,
It’s always a matter of what’s next,
Who’s next.
Sometimes I feel tears coming on,
But I don’t let them come out,
My chest tightens,
I feel weak; and the sick cycle perpetuates.
But I know it’s nothing out of the ordinary,
Everyone must feel this way,
All people are the same,
I wish they would realize that.
Maybe I am an idealist,
But at least I have a vision,
A vision similar to King’s,
More demanding but less articulated,
I have a dream that one day everything will be ok,
Everything.
I know that can happen.
But they say I’m different,
They mean it in a good way,
So I take it as a compliment,
I’m too shy to ask for clarification,
In fear that I might seem conceited,
Asking to hear more about myself,
Today though, I asked.
He said it’s because I’m not like anyone else,
Well. That certainly didn’t answer my question,
And even if it did, it didn’t make me feel any better,
After all everyone is different from everyone else.
No one thinks the same way,
No one has all the same experiences,
Nor do they formulate the same reactions or reflections,
I believe that if I had started dictating these thoughts a millisecond before or after I did, that they would be completely different,
Not because my thoughts would be changing,
Rather because the kaleidoscope of our minds are always tumbling,
Rolling around,
Re-structuring,
Not in a good way or a bad way.
I just don’t,
It’s neither here nor there,
Not hidden just never gotten to,
I can never fully open up to anyone,
But then again who really can?
Sometimes I feel empty,
But I soon remind myself how selfish it is to feel that way,
How much suffering there is in the world,
How much I have to be thankful for,
But it’s not the things I have that make me happy,
It’s the people I know and the connections I have.
The only sadness I harness commences from the loss of human contact,
With the loss of a friend,
Being away from family,
Feeling like we’ll never be the same again,
No matter what it’s like I can always be to blame,
For something.
For not stopping what’s wrong,
For not doing what’s right,
It’s always a matter of what’s next,
Who’s next.
Sometimes I feel tears coming on,
But I don’t let them come out,
My chest tightens,
I feel weak; and the sick cycle perpetuates.
But I know it’s nothing out of the ordinary,
Everyone must feel this way,
All people are the same,
I wish they would realize that.
Maybe I am an idealist,
But at least I have a vision,
A vision similar to King’s,
More demanding but less articulated,
I have a dream that one day everything will be ok,
Everything.
I know that can happen.
But they say I’m different,
They mean it in a good way,
So I take it as a compliment,
I’m too shy to ask for clarification,
In fear that I might seem conceited,
Asking to hear more about myself,
Today though, I asked.
He said it’s because I’m not like anyone else,
Well. That certainly didn’t answer my question,
And even if it did, it didn’t make me feel any better,
After all everyone is different from everyone else.
No one thinks the same way,
No one has all the same experiences,
Nor do they formulate the same reactions or reflections,
I believe that if I had started dictating these thoughts a millisecond before or after I did, that they would be completely different,
Not because my thoughts would be changing,
Rather because the kaleidoscope of our minds are always tumbling,
Rolling around,
Re-structuring,
Not in a good way or a bad way.
