My Diary

My Diary

I lay in this bed with these thoughts in my head, look at the blood that’s been bled from when my heart had been shred part by part. These nights tear me apart, make me wish I could go back and restart the life that I’ve led so I can sew together the dangling thread hanging over me. It taunts me like that bold message you dread that you want to ignore but know eventually has to get read. And I try so hard to think of the good things instead but this pain is so widespread and it’s grip on my head is so tight that I can’t even slip the slightest semblance of solace into this locked shed that’s trapped my mind inside.

I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I’ve cried and I’ve cried and all the pride that’s implied on the outside can’t seem to hide the truth I’m forced to confide; that I’ve died on the inside. Each time I try to divide the sad thoughts that reside together in my head they just get amplified; magnified in frustration that I dared and I tried to hide them. They collide like atoms in my mind and become multiplied until the whole space becomes occupied by nothing but unidentified questions and desires that I know won’t ever get satisfied.

My mind longs for either peaceful rest, or cyanide.

I can’t help that I view life through such an unclear, blurry lens. A timeline of careers and diverse group of friends, asking myself the whole time when this all end? When will I feel it and at last comprehend my purpose? When will I transcend this pretend realm and extend my everything to the place I so long to attend? These thoughts course through me as I desperately grasp for a Godsend to befriend and depend on to help me ascend to the realm where I know I belong. As I write this in my head like a song, I know it isn’t wrong and I just have to play along for a little while longer.

Because that day; it ain’t far. It ain’t far from tonight, it ain’t far from tomorrow, and I know this. I know this because there’s so much fuel in this car, so many shelves in this bar, so much pure light in this star that’s about to supernova.

But I guess right now I’m supposed to act like I’m nothing and won’t ever be something because that’s what people want to see they don’t want to think that the people they feed are destined to overcome and succeed and grow bigger than them because it causes a stampede of lost causes and impedes on their dreams but hey.

It really isn’t fair to hate on someone just because they have bigger dreams than you.

But that won’t stop them, will it? No, they’ll still hate the success and your name in the press as they cuss and confess that they knew you’d progress into whatever it is you’ve become. And while they look in the mirror and hate that you’ve made it, they’ll try to bring you back down to their playing ground to make themselves feel like they’ve crowned a win while instead they just drown in their toxic waste that’s abound.

People confound me.

But this last verse, no more ire as I light a bright fire and tell all of you reading that I never will tire from doing what’s right as I fight and aspire to always reach higher on this quest to acquire through blood or gunfire the just world we deserve.

That’s the long answer to the frequent inquiry.

These are just thoughts that I write in my diary.


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