Something is wrong.
No. Something is wrong with me.
I have several voices in my head constantly arguing--with another voice arguing to silence the voices while another voice argues to let them argue.
My pupils contract and I fall free from the world as I let the fight begin while I zone out into a realm where nobody agrees because the world is just so...damn...ambiguous.
Maybe I need some organized religion. Maybe I need to get out of town. Maybe I need to just stop living this fucked up lie that I've framed myself in. I've realized something over the past couple hours.
I'm fucking empty.
I look at the druggies. The drunk kids. The kids who don't give a fuck. The kids I once believed I couldn't relate with. Well the truth is--they don't live lies. They live how they want to. At least they're not faking it. But me? I'm a fake mother fucker who needs to get his life straight. Who needs to understand what I'm good for and go for it.
Trouble is, I know what I'm good for. And I know I can be the best at what I do.
But every time the thought of what I must do sinks in, it seeps down all the way toward the bottom of my heart and it feels do damn heavy. I constantly interpret the weight of it as some kind of negative expectation. Some kind of feeling of failure. But that's just Kid. Kid Will being a fucking Kid as always. He'll never grow up. He'll never understand why until I show him. But how can I do it? How can I show him that there's nothing to be afraid of? Doubts. Arguments. There's too many of us in here. There's too many of us in his head. We just need...one.
I am my own problem and my own solution.
