AboutUnimpatiently waiting for the inevitable, yet so undetestable conclusion to the advancing melancholy haze that covers the diurnal dirge of denominations that we call our lives. What a strange, yet harrowing state: To hear, but to never speak a word; To repetitiously, and relentlessly scream in silence with but only myself to blame.
Growing, yet succumbing to the arduous nature of others.
Always giving, always trying, and with nothing but the best intentions, to be sentenced by the social judge's gavel; to be sentenced to the executioner's Facebook page; to be cast away by those who you swore to protect.
To be as naked inside as the day born, with only your shadow as the best - and last - friend you'll ever have. To be chased by the past, as one would by a rabid dog, derisively scorned and torn apart by the hyenas that surround the present, only to be molded into something foul and arduous by the societal sculptor's unforgiving knife in the future.
Keep moving. Don't slow down. Don't you ever dare to stop. Don't let yourself get caught up in the world around you. Don't let them win. Don't allow anyone to force you into a frame, control you, treat you like cattle, diet you, drill you, use you as cannon fodder, and discard you like a bad hand. Don't let yourself... become me.