I listen to music when I walk, my ipod is a good friend of mine.its odd that you can know me in person, for ages and ages and never know the real me, the me thats deep inside that only comes out in writing.my true thoughts never divulged unless here....because they to insane for me to utter.I was litening to the road to perdition soundtrack,watching the sky, walking to the bus, the sky seemed more alive, grayer and thicker, the light was dim everything was moving but it feels to me like im standing still.I wanted to cry on the street, I wanted to grab someone and ask if they can see me.......if Im really here or if Im just imagining who I am.who am I?Light and dark, happy and sad, no middle ground for me. I found myself standing on the edge of the curb waiting for the number 1 bus, watching the lights,the streets seemed endless I felt like I could see the bay bridge from were I was standing though theres no way I could,like that bridge is freedom.......or something different.watching people eating,having conversations,wanting to reach in and be like them.I kept standing there, toes in black converse teetering on the brink,headlights flashing past me, zooming by, I had this sudden urge to just.........walk out into the street.I dont know how many people get those feelings, imagining your own death constantly, being stabbed, a car hitting me, jumping from a bridge,falling out of a plane, getting lost in the nothing ness that is the mind.I have a feeling I am like my mother though she wouldnt want to think it.borderline.I hide it better then her.days I feel like I could sing, like the world is in my hands and Im rocking it like a child its mine.other days Im the dirt on the shoes.......im nothing,im a blur that you pass by on the corner.Im the girl with her head down singing to herself.My mind goes......it dreams and it dreams. I want to be saved. I want to be picked up when Im down, I always have this vision of clawing cement when it gets to be this way, my finger nails ripping off to remind me of reality.Music does this to me, it gives me clarity to the emotions that are buried so deep inside.You would never think from knowing me in person that this is me......my therapist wouldnt even know.No...I am not a strong person, no I am not brave.Im watching observing, crying inside.making up stories for random people,watching people on the bus.living on the outside, dying within.and why?Im never satisfied.Im never pleased with me.If I could I would run forever, across the country.as I kid I would sit in my room and stare at myself.watch myself crying.try to understand the emotion in it.where it comes from.when depressed I recently well......3 or more years ago took on the habbit of talking to myself.even in front of those angry at me.it must of looked insane to my parents, when they told me I couldnt keep my hampster, the one thing I loved, my first pet my baby,that I had to give him away, I lost it,and it scared them, I paced around in front of them talking to myself, grabbing my hair and throwing my body around.they tried to touch me and I scrambled to the bathroom, locked the door and paced, crying, screaming to myself "you're never good enough, they will never listen, you are not good enough, they dont care, they dont care about you, you dont matter, you are nothing, you are worthless, you are a spoiled little brat, whats wrong with you, stop crying you idiot you little brat"my parents screamed for me to come out of the bathroom but for the longest time I repeated these things sitting on the toilet seat crying till I came out like a zombie staring at them, agreeing with all they said and relinquishing my baby hampster before I moved here.
I dont know why I told that story.I dont think like ive said before anyone ever sees the real me.I see people at their most depressed to be them.....the real driving internal force.what made you how you react.this is me........this is me.the dreamer, the cryer.in this moment, like so many other times I feel lost.in this huge city with a million lights mine is flickering.