The world is only as big as it reaches.
And yes, my children, it reaches pretty far.
It's filled with millions and millions of faces just wishing to attain fame.
They want more and more of it and they need it now.
But then there are those who don't know their purpose.
They feel like they can't fit in in this far reaching world.
They are the sould dressed in black, not because they are sad.
But because they are absent.
They feel like day after day after damn day they are going down like the Titanic.
But at least the Titanic drew money.
These souls, they are left to suffer under shadows of vultures.
They don't own a mirror because they don't want to look at themselves in it anyway.
Because they're afraid if they do, they'll see what they look like.
They'll see what people see.
The disgust, the patheticness, the nerd, the goth, the dork, the slut,
The in pain.
The insane.
The mental game.
They are all taking their tolls.
But where are these people to go?
How are they to know?
How were they to know that a disorder known as bipolar would result in bringing a blade to their wrists or a noose to their throats?
Their screams can't be heard because they're being cut off by the noose.
They try so hard to escape from this far reaching world.
But they can never escape this lie we're living in.
They scratch and claw at the door like a cat wanting milk.
Because that cat had a bad day at cat school and he just wants to come back to his cat home and drink his cat milk.
And then cry himself to sleep.
And as the cat sleeps he'll have his cat dreams.
He'll dream of one day becoming top cat, sly cat, papa cat, and even the cat's pajamas.
He'll dream of one day when he can stroll down to the corner trashcan without being harassed by the big dog names Spike from down the street.
He'll dream of mice and how things aren't nice and about his dinner, rice.
But then his dreams turn into nightmares.
Like a 50 year old losing his hair.
Or like your spouse declaring they just don't care.
They've given up.
But suddenly you awaken hearing your cat crying in the night.
And you run to him and pick him up, assuring him that he is not alone.
And it is then that you catch yourself in the hallway mirror.
You see who you are for the first time.
You see yourself, and also a dark cloud.
It's that dark cloud of denial hanging over your head.
But you also see your cat in your arms.
And you are suddenly reminded that you are not alone in this far reaching world.
This far reaching world would be alone without you.
So my children, my black wearing souls.
Pour yourself some milk and cry yourself to sleep.
But when you awaken, remember your dreams.
Put them in a file and label it "Hope."
And when you feel that you are alone at the end of this far reaching world, remember,
You're the cat's pajamas.