They said that sensitive people are kind of softy, messed up and weak.
And the world unfortunately has bought into it.
People think it’s somehow much cooler to be insensitive.
So society pushed thoughtful and sentimental individuals to the side.

They labeled us abnormal, crazy, and autistic and neurotics.
Look! They’re even pointing us with their fingers saying:
“Look at them! They give too much attention to the thoughts, feelings, self-talk and psychological impressions and ideas.”
Said the narcissist who checks their Facebook 24/7 for likes and comments on their profile photo.

It’s time like these where I lose my faith on people and God and even existence itself!
Everything seems meaningless, pointless, exhausting. I have to drag my body every day to work even!
It’s times like these where I don’t know what to really say or do.
And in moments like this one my intuition takes over and I begin to fashion narratives to mask my mind’s incomprehensible agony, pain and torture.

Though what’s different is that at nights my body sleeps safe and sound.
But my conscience awakens from the dark and punishes me for my mistakes. Mistakes that I haven’t spoken of yet.
It’s weird to be a human subject. To exist. It is the strangest mystery of all.
To live. To love. To ache. To eat. To speak. To cry. To think. Human life is a miracle! Life itself is freaking miracle man.

I’ve been searching for my life’s purpose for a couple of years and let me tell you this.
The only thing that I’ve discovered is that:
“There are no lights, music and fireworks for us, buddy, in the land of self-development”

No lofty aspirations to be realized.
Nor shiny kick *** careers to be given attention to.
NO SUCH LUCK.

The only thing that exists is kind of pessimistic albeit genuine.
As far as I know, it is your only chance of doing anything.
“Only the principle of minimum effort rules the underworld that’s lodged deep within our heads”
(The voice said)

Again the voice spoke. (This time with a much more demanding tone)
“Do the least you can do and do it well”
“For there is no place for underachievers like you here in OUR domain”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of his living room’s mirror.
His own reflection was staring back at him.

Mesmerized by his self’s own image-re-presentation as he was.
Wanting to see himself through an-other’s perspective.
Desiring to be seen as somebody else.
He went on to become one with the famous imago.

In an endless arms race, an endless metonymy, drifting as it is called,
He tried to achieve the unachievable.
He tried to attempt the impossible.
He wanted to do the non-doable.

Always, from a young age, feeling inadequate and insecure.
Because he deemed himself incapable of stretching his own existence,
To make it fit with the family’s ideals.

So he spent the rest of his life trying to be recognized as something.
As something which he wasn’t at all? Yes. (How tragic. How sad.)
That left him with nothing but rage, hopelessness and despair.
A bipolar marionette of somebody Else’s deadly painful pleasure.

Powerless as he was, he went on living while construing ******* solutions.
So that he could just "get by". A coward hiding behind somebody Else’s wants.
And then one day having said to everybody, everything that made him upset, he left this place.
He never came back.

My whole life is a mistake.
A sweet oath of tyranny.
A true ode to sadness.

My whole life is a mistake.
A mythology of heroes unseen.
A toy for the Gods to play with.

My whole life is a mistake.
A constant attempt for recognition, from my own reflection, looking back at me.
A successful act of failure.

My whole life is a mistake.
Lyrics on a melody of death.
Symphonies of chaos and disorder.

My whole life is a mistake.
A continuous and superfluous demand for personal over-achievement.
A strong and definite craving for love and affection.

My whole life is a mistake.
My whole life is..
A mistake.

I want someone to come and save me.
I wish for someone to come and save me from myself.
I hope that someone comes and saves me. I hope.

Cause I’m my self’s worst enemy.
Cause I can be my own nemesis.
But not my own savior. Not that. That I cannot be.

I cannot be Him. I don’t believe. Don’t know how to.
To be honest I never learned how to do so.
Faith. That’s what’s been missing from my life all along.

Intellectual by nature. A child of science. A lazy philosopher chatting mindlessly endlessly about anything.
A mixture of perverse logic coupled with an over-the-fence sexuality.
That’s who I am. That IS my history. An animal of society. Someone out of control.

Some nights, I lay here waiting God to take my soul as I drift to sleep.
And others I make a mess out of myself and of others through my outrageous behavior.
Never being sensible. Always a step beyond what other people think of me. Surprise! Gotcha.

Things got so messed up for me since the day I was born here. Trauma. Confusion. Questions. Crisis.
Don’t know who I am. Don’t know who I want to be. Don’t know anything.
Who can solve the everlasting mystery of my life if not me?? Exactly. Nobody can and nobody will.

I have no destination or grounding point in life. I’m so lost. Oh God help me!
Don’t know how to put the leftover pieces of my broken self, back together again.
I’m ****** to live a life of misery and a life of mystery. An endless dark meaningless (I’m tempted to say) black hole in my heart surrounded by supernovas and neutron stars.

Who can fix me? Who can put me back together? Who can make me feel whole again?
Cause I don’t know a **** thing. I never knew. Even if my mouth moved a lot in the past.
Now who can save me? Does anybody can? Do you? Huh? I’m talking to you brother!!

“I can and will save you. My child you have no other option but to walk the righteous path once again.
You will see. You will begin to breathe again. You will begin to feel alive once again.
You will at last get to know how it is to be a part of this marvelous universe”

Empty promises! Hollow words! Half-hearted remnants of an old man’s monologue!!
Who are you to speak my destiny? God?? Show yourself! You imbecile!
How do you dare to question the tentacle-like hands that mother fate has put on my predetermined future???

I never was anybody! I am not anybody! I ‘m just nobody and I don’t want to be something more!
My existence gets verified by my low self-esteem. I want nothing more. This is enough for me!
Leave me alone! There’s only one thing I hope though. “I hope that someone finds me and saves me before it’s too late.”

"The mind is fathomless."

From the darkest of souls, arose the sweetest of syllogisms.