Beauty

It's 11:54 pm I see it all around, how the models pose their seductive poses, how they wait for the right lighting to gleam into their direction. A perfect moment captured by the shutter of a frame. Their skin so pale and soft, as if it could be anything less than perfect. The eyes hungry for fame, and success. The makeup blended so majestically, it's as if they were born with it already on. It makes me jealous. Jealous that such beauty could be squandered on people who's only real goal is to drink themselves into a stupor at 2 am in the morning, and waste their time partying for a moment of amusement. Oh how drool, I say as I type the words of a jealous mongrel, shirts stained by last night's meatloaf. Do not presume I forget my place, judgement upon the many, I would presume to look upon myself with such disdain as I do the horde. Blessed they be to have comfort in their meaninglessness. Minds not filled with doubt, and selfishness be the only focus of their lives. Yes I am jealous, and I am evil but I will not pretend I can hold myself up in such a demeanor. I am evil, yes and I am jealous.

The hole

It is 11:18pm. I'm tired, but not of my body. It's more of a mind tired. Like a hole that seeps through me. It's almost like I feel nothing for anything. Like nothing has value, like my fear and sadness aren't big enough for me to carry. Like I'm buckling under the weight of it all. So the voices yell at me, and I play deaf, but for today I cry. This hole I speak to, this hole I carry, I feel like everyone carries one. Knowing I am not alone brings me little comfort. Sometimes I know not what I say or do, and it's ok. It's ok not because I say it, but because I am mortal, I know that its normal to feel as we all do. Sometimes I believe that truly in myself that I am not. Maybe the rejection I've surrounded myself all these years is due to the fact that I know so well we are not. Creating a facade for others to admire, and believe is beneath me, because we know they should not accept us, for who and what we are. It might be time to slink away from the shadows and be brought into the light. To tomorrow, and forever after, we shall see.

First of a past time

Right now it's 9:41 pm. I'm sitting here, thinking about all the opportunities that I have lost. The times when I could've done something. Times where I could have made something happen for myself, or when if I had pushed myself a little harder I would've made a difference in my life. To think, that life can deal us so many paths, it's a bit hard to fathom. Someone who could've made me a better or worse person. A choice that I could've made that might have made me different. I turn to you, people of night, people of day how does one make these moves so frivolously? To make one's life decisions on a whim of a breeze? Such courage do they have, such vigor and unseen fright they display! Reminds me of how much I hold dear my fear. To not say in a sense that I am superior or better than those who do, to condemn such a different being, would be like a crocodile defiling the status of an alligator, different yes, but ultimately similar. Make what you will, these people may not be the same as we, for they know things and see with their minds not hearts, but even if they did we know they beat to a different rhythm as we do. So clasp your own hands together and observe these animals from afar, for you know you are not one of them. I think a time will come when we can say we aren't going to tell anyone anything and simply fade, that is when we know we will have made it.