I was running out of ideas, not about the ones that could work but the ones that would surely let me live a little in the midst of it all.
I am caught between my crazy thoughts and the standard procedures they keep on prescribing to everyone while none of theirs really worked out.
Whenever I smoke inside the bathroom, there's this big mirror on the wall with the size of the modern flat TV screens like the one you have in your living room. I see myself in it, deformed, defeated, clueless and occasionally mad about how I couldn't live at any moment; always crawling like a bug while carefully avoiding being stomped by the bigger fellows from the who-knows heavens above.
If I was a bird, I'd be aware that my wings are clipped and if I was God, I'll know how to keep my subjects subjugated-fairly.
Oh how I destroyed myself with lots of **** in the internet. Other than the self-inflicted pleasure, I confess that it did get me through being completely insane with how fast the world moves, how it forgets that a person can only bear a couple of things all at once though on the other hand it destroys more than it mends.
Don't get the wrong idea, I am not alone, physically.
I have tried countless approach, methods, ways for whatever the day wants me to shapeshift myself into, just to reach the most fitting, the most becoming form in order to get on the next day while surviving the traps laid by the worries imbued in me by my upbringing.
My mouth as well as my mind is all dried up to blame even an innocent rock for all the things I keep running into, therefore I just embrace the spikes, rush to the fall, crash to the wall and intentionally drown while knowing there is no other way to escape any of this but to run mindlessly towards my problems that has different shapes and sizes.