mentally confined

I'm ruled by my thoughts constantly. You can give me all of the chemicals in this world- they won't free me. Only I can free myself, and I don't think that I posess that ability, which creates major mental conflict.

Because I do posess the desire to escape. I envy everyone, for they have the control. I've tried grasping control through every way imaginable- even if it eneded up hurting me in the end. But what is the end, when is the end? Sometimes, I wish it would hurry up and get here. Because this world is fucked, and I'm insane as it is.

I observe people alot. I feel what they feel, and I see what they see. I see what they pass up, and I see thier desires and hopes. I see thier dreams for the future, and I see thier hesistation arise. I see walk away from a better life, and I see myself sitting a great distance back from that oportunity. I see myself so far back, that taking a step away would make no difference. How will I ever make myself move.

Compared to other people, I have the same wants, I have the same needs. It's just based mainly upon personal preference. I hide my wants and needs, selectivly embracing. Regular people act upon intentions, without any forethough. This is both good and bad, for you can always get a positive or a negetive reaction. I always anticipate the negative one, but then shudder when a positive outcome is witnessed. So what does this signal? A pity party.

Anyone's invited, but I like to keep them mostly to the VIP's, or VIP, that being myself. VIP should stand for Vulnerably Impulsive Person. There you go. The activities consist of self loathing, and as things pick up, I tend to move onto self hatred. Attire is usually casual, what's the point of looking nice if you're just there to criticize?

And the gifts at this party, well, they're more like morals, lessons if you will. The way that you get these gifts is by taking a long hard look in the mirror, and locate every imperfection lying on your fucked up soul. You hurt. And then you give reason to hurt.

What would a party be without stupid decesions? Sure, everyone makes some dumb moves at gatherings. Well, my dumb move doesn't contain any alcohol or illegal substances. No, no, no. Much more potent. Much more painful. The result is permanent. But you know what? I have yet to act upon this dumb decision. I guess that I'm "above the influence". No peer pressure here. Only self evoked pressure. Maybe if I had some "peers" in the first place, things would turn out differently.

I also forgot to mention. These pity parties usually take place to celebrate regret, on the ocassion of depression. Bring your doubt, and bring your life. Hopefully, you'll leave the party with neither. I usually exit with both, in addition to a nice party favor of regret. Fuck.

I really do wish that I had the balls to act my own age. I sit here typing away like an old man, caught in the throws of a mid-life crisis. Type, type, type, so much drama. Type, type, type, woe is me. Type, type, type, I'm all alone. And I always will be, as I continue to fear each day that lies ahead.