Left Behind

I’ve changed so much since my days of going to the country school (which is closer to me then the high school I’m going to now) and I think I may have left a huge part of me behind in those halls.  I only realized this by driving past it for the first time in three years.  My friends knew me back then. After going to a small school with a handful of people for 10 years you can know someone really well.  You know their past, you know their present, you know what made them who they are, you know them through and through.  And I was tired with that, I wanted to be another face in a crowd of un-knowing people.  It’d be more comfortable or something like that.  The only way I could complete this self goal was to change myself.  I wanted to be different unique and that’s okay.  But the thing is I’ve worked so hard to change myself, my musical taste, my style, my thoughts, that now I don’t have anything left to change.  I’m a new person and I have left some of myself behind.

My friends don’t know my past that well, and I don’t want them to.  Can I be true friends with somebody who does not know that information? Have I finally got what I wanted, to be faceless within a crowd?

Oh boy oh boy oh god

Watch my face. Watch it closely. I’m so tired of acting like I’m unique and different then everybody else because in the end we’re all the same emotion and laughter grabbing as everybody else. Where did all the serious conversations go? Why can’t all the lives I lead connect?  No more money no more food.  My body can be the mechanism of my mind and I’ll never be able to say what I mean.  The words out of my mouth these days never come out right.  My speech is somehow slurred and people actually notice.  They look at my bottom lip (my brother used to call it fat and it hurt me but I’m over it) and that makes me all the more slurred.  Fuck if you had a speech impediment I wouldn’t stare, I’d accept that you’re different (but really the same) and I’d get on with life.  I wouldn’t hurt you.  I wouldn’t be mean and spiteful.  I’d let it go and whatever right?

We all begin life the same, and end it the same just in different manners.  We all feel the same emotions, use our senses, think, want and need, and communicate so why should I be treated differently then anybody else?  Why do people laugh at me?  Why do people talk about me when I’m not around?  Why do people imitate me and mock me when I’m not around?  If I were a religious fanatic I’d tell them that one day on judgement day they’d get what they deserved but I’m not.  Wish I was, but I know the truth and I know it like the back of my hand because I’m the truth.  Yup, my flesh, my blood, my hair, my eyes, my fingers, my calves they are all real and don’t lie.  If you were to break everyone down to itty bitty pieces we’d all be the same. Scientifically speaking, matter is anything that has mass (something along those lines). “Hi, I’m matter” “Hey! Nice to meet you matter, I’m also matter!” Well that conversation went well.

I had a traumatic dream last night. Trauma sucks.

Conformity and Distractions

And in the beginning I hate the conformity, the rules and regulations, even the people. But lately, I’ve been contemplating the end, because I know I’ll look back and reminisce about the relaxing quality of the sameness, repetition, and distractions.