Me.

I often wonder at how the world looks at me. An outcast? I'm just simply living my life with all the problems that every other person has to deal with. A simply personality stuck with a complicated mind. Words don't come as easy to me as i would like them to. Creativity without motivation. It's almost a crime, that I have the power to do anything but I'm yet to find the will. An ongoing state of paranoia is constantly shadowing my every move. No one can know too much about me since i don't even know that much about myself. Most stories I tell and the things I do are not really me. They are the things I imagine myself to be.

So the question really is, who am I? Could I find myself in between all the words I am writing. Are there clues to who I really am? Or maybe living in suburbia for most of my life has fried my brain. So now I am free from that threshold of hell and going on to the things I was never able to do back then.Some of these things are not "good" as most would say but I have found them to be very entertaining.

Drugs have been a large part of my life due to the fact that that the world is place filled with dense, close-minded people I can't stand. People don't listen. In the drug world there is nothing but possibilities. Your world is whatever your mind wants it to be. I'm not saying I do A LOT of drugs but the ones I have done, in the past, have opened my mind to the point that I felt as if the Earth could explode at that point and I would have been content. Almost as if I had found the key to life. I still like to believe I did.

Down sides...
Along with chemicals comes the paranoia. I have developed certain traits throughout my experiences that has made me not normal. I now have to deal with symptoms that were previously nonexistent. I think its a fair trade off, the answer to life for hallucinations, delusions, lack of motivation, extreme paranoia, and lack of certain emotion traits. Don't you think?

Love in chemicals.