Sail.

Blame it. You can blame it on anything you want, really. Sometimes I think things will be different for me. That my emotions and feelings will grow, develop, mature. But then I remember why I'm here in the first place and I remember why I do the things the way I do them. Call me all the names in the world, fine. But you don't understand why living this way is so much easier for me. People in my life take a shit on me, and I just let them, because if that's what makes them happy, screw whatever I feel. Every time I find something hopeful, fresh, new, fun. Something that makes me happy, I get excited. I should know better by now. If it sounds to good to be true, it is. So, its time to run away again with my tail between my legs hoping I can go back to feeling numb. The thing is, I frame myself on always being there for other people. Always. Every now and again there is a diamond in the rough that proves their shine. But why are kind, honest, loving people are rare? Shouldn't everyone else be rare? That's what they taught us growing up. Its so easy to believe the truth when the truth is ugly. People just live their whole lives without ever being appreciated. Maybe I'm one of them. I never asked for that, you know. It's bad enough I can't afford a full tummy, but when I go out of my way for someone...and they never even say thank you...the fact that it didn't bother me before is more bothersome than the fact itself. Thing with me is I always find myself claiming something that was never mine to begin with. It never surprises me anymore. It never surprises me when someone doesn't even try. No one ever has. They don't try, they don't fight, and I'm just used to it. I mean it when I say, "Life sucks, then you die." It's okay though, because even if you take the time to read this and understand how I feel, at the end of the day, I'm the one there for myself. I calm myself down. I listen to me talk. I hold myself while I cry because no one else does. Remember? I do this shit on my own. Because the very minute I let someone do it for me, they leave. Who needs em? My heart races as I try to pinpoint accurate and aesthetic lines to make myself sound better than I actually am. Today, the storm accompanied me on my way home. The lightening opened every pore of my skin and the thunder raised every hair. The music from my speakers understood me more than I understand myself and for a moment...everything was alright. Its funny to me how warped everyone has it. How everyone thinks everything can just fit in this little tiny box along with your favorite trinkets. Somethings never will change even though you knew for a fact they would. Where would I be if the world was ugly? I'd be dead. I would give up. I would ignore my thoughts of reason when I feel this way. But it is, so...here I am. Hey, at least I'm trying. Apparently a lot more than most people around me are. One day I will take my brain out and ring it out like a wet rag for the entire world to see. At least...maybe then, you'll notice me a little more. Maybe then, I'll actually be worth something.