It Doesn't Belong Here.

"i'll try this without swearing. i feel apathetic. i'm looking for joy but the only joy i can ever get is in my room being alone and feeling it and despising them and just to keep to myself. i don't wanna allow myself ot become like them ut  cannot help it. i feel restraint by them. the perfect jo comes from the perfect beauty. everything is beauty. beauty helps to alleiate the soul of it's worries and trouble. the sight is made up of living. relating life with sight because it contributes to expression. the soul's window are the eyes for a reason it is said. i'm hungry for beauty. i need to rediscover my self. i need to plan an escape. i fear death. i'm not as courageous as i' am about it awhile bac. why do i know this much i know now. i wanna be ignorant as they are and just livelife not knowing ithe hopelessness i'm feeling now. people are the ssame and changes comes likely not from it. he is smart but i should beckon him my apologies. i wanna cry and feel love again, that's all i need. to show to peoplle the change i am and th echange i can bring. no feed for the pretense of joy and like. just one, on one, a life that was originally built for two, or more that comes with refurbishing the world of grace and peace. what has come from it all now. the broken twisted idea of a mistake which can never be undone. we're cndemned."

-As Misery Creeps.

People.

That more than speaks the rest of my following usual let outs of all that I can be feeling, which is isn't always a bad thing but I would press on further that a learning experience can ever be obtained at the final period. So the actual point here is that there is always one who disappoints you, always one who allows a tiny bit (sometimes more than just a tiny bit) of joy, one who gives hope, one who motivates, or the opposite of the verbs given, and more. A joy filled atmosphere room with known people opposes the idea of it's lurking reality, a room of large insecurities, hatred, obsession, jealousy, and lust. To be true to one's self it so walk out, subtly yet in a performing manner, and quickly so as to avoid the unnecessary time of explaining the enactment so used to being done. I like beauty and I get distracted by it awfully easily proven I really had lost my point to this of the distractions overtaking my focus. I over promised the lesson before period then so ending this with an exclamation I shall!

The Thought That Came.

It's been awhile so I feel it's time again I leave a mark in this endless space. My mind is empty. There are not many things I can do now or words to try to picture and to construct something that seems unlikely from the ordinary. Trying, tried, and the thought comes again to try but pointless it is. Looking back, looking forth, you see all that can be seen. This once more sounds like a nag of absent purpose but there is a purpose in life. That has already been discovered through a wide selection of read books. I share to those whom ask. Here hear now, me, hear, a rant shall now be told. I thought he perfect by looks and by charm, but knowing always creates a different appeal to an individual. I want, no doubt, as many who had tasted would want, so I pursued in hope. But hopes shatter when expectations aren't met. Here we go, the same tale told countless time with recognition for once. That the tales are told to hope the future isn't history. But, alas, there's hope. So disallow that thought, instead allow experience, allow all-felt-like-thoughts be manifested, allow love. Then it will come, without doubt I say, a pretense of confidence. I know. I will not go that path. I will push this through.