I love the people who are out to destroy me because it reminds me that maybe that is what I deserve.

I believe that sometimes we need to go through pain in order for our bodies to transgress physically and mentally.
And how crazy is that?

How crazy is it that life has also taught me that.
My life is as expandable as it is useless and meaningless.
My efforts will not be works of art.
And the bags under my eyes, the callous on my hands, and feeling in my stomach won’t truly amount to anything.

The idea that this is all in my perspective, that a different point of view can possibly change our situation only if we allow it too.

We look for the possibility that maybe life skipped our momentous parades, and accidentally sent a flood of devastation.
Trying to justify everything with the laws of the universe, or karma, or your god.

Most of us will have the habit of only thriving in one place, and end up screaming and scratching against ourselves. Begging to be released, but others around you will only hear silence when there is music and destruction blaring within you.

Suffocating under our own creations and swearing things will change.
Pulling on shreds of your own insanity.
Fearing that this feeling is the only thing you will know.

How crazy is it that life has also taught me that I would envy the ignorance others, and make insufferable mental terror manageable.
Sometimes you have to imagine them as monsters, and you have to become one in order to fight them off.

Life has also taught me that I will love the feeling of solitude, but be shouting for someone to hear my voice. I’M DESTROYING MYSELF and unable to set myself free, and hear laughter from the other side of the walls I created.

I don’t wish harm upon any of you I love you more than you could possibly know. I’d die for you no matter how much you hated my very being, and I would be okay will a funeral that didn’t honor me.

Another thing life has taught me is ‘I might always live by the look on your face.’