and it begins...
running full speed ahead in one direction with all that you are and then suddenly you hear someone yell "STOP!" and you turn and look and by the time you figured out who was shouting and whether or not you believe them, you forgot which way you were running in the first place; the truth is, no one actually knows which way is up and those who do are so much farther ahead of you they don't bother to let you know or they're too scared that they might be wrong and have to start over themselves; it's not really a competition because everyone is losing something all the time; and you can't exactly see where you are because by the time you figure that out, you are inevitably somewhere else entirely if not someone else entirely; and looking ahead does no good because to look ahead you must know where you are; most have resorted to running around completely blindfolded which I can't really say is a a bad idea at this point; and corporate is screaming in my ear so loudly devouring my own voice which may or may not have been right in the first place; money is the least of my concerns yet the first thing i'm forced to consider; and it's a shame that we spend so much of our lives stumbling, so much of our lives wishing we were somewhere else or worrying that what we have won't last when really there is no right direction to begin with; isn't it the lost that have the most fun anyway, but only after they realize that they are lost can they really lose themselves and experience life; and they say that living natural is the way to go; but what if nature provided me with a weakness strong enough to kill and the only way to fight it is to lose myself once every 8 weeks to the needle and then again in the late hours of the night ravaged in pain when the thoughts of my own soul mix with those that have been injected some time earlier and the combination of the two is always deadly and i can hear it screaming "you'll never make it out alive" and sometimes I don't care and sometimes i talk back but the voice from inside is always louder and i know i'm not strong enough to fight it; and i'm not even sure it would be wise to fight against myself; either way i lose a piece of who i am in the struggle; as if the struggle itself were not enough; if i haven't lost it who i am to these pills and infusions already; and i know the drugs were for my own good; to make me whole; better; but then why do i feel this itching under my veins and why do my thoughts landslide like i never remember them doing before i began this dangerous path; sliding up a slippery slope only to realize that i have forgotten my silver shoes at the bottom; and i can't say that i'm surprised because having this work out would be something that only happens in fairy tales and i'll be damned if my life has ever resembled that of a fairy tale; and the minute it does i hear someone yell "it's time for dinner" but what they really mean is "don't think you are any different from the rest of us. don't think you will ever be anything more than clone." but i really didn't need the call today, i could've done without the meeting, and i didn't really ask for her advice, but thanks anyway; they say don't worry but what they mean is quit trying and give up on your dream because life's too short for anything but mediocre and i wonder if they could only hear what they are saying if they would change their minds; i can see myself stumbling around in between average and mundane and it scares me so badly i'd rather not stumble at all; but staying here is not an option if i want any chance of a life; and i'm running out of options faster than i can run out of this town; i'm terrified of losing what i have but even more terrified of not being enough for you; and you say these things now and i believe you more than i believe myself; you are all i have to hang on to and i'm gripping you with all the strength that i can find in this feeble body; but i cannot help but wonder when you will change your mind; when it will become too hard and the wieght of the responsibility of adulthood will guttle us both and we'll be left as nothing but a shell and with no one but me to blame for chasing that unattainable dream in the first place; i should have shut up and sat down like they told me to; and i know it doesn't mean much but this voice is the only one i have and i feel my vocal chords wearing thin from the screaming and i can't decide if it would be better to shut up now and save what voice i have left or if i should keep screaming until it's over.