Always felt different
One day I asked her why
she looked at me funny but had no answer
Neither did I.
Life goes on and it becomes more drastic
in my ideas and activities
I never seemed to notice
How different they seemed
the problem was in me.
One day I looked around
to see the eyes around me
hoping they'd stare back,
one curious glance in my direction or another.
But I could detect no sign of life.
The problem was not in me
but in their eyes.
I lingered softly in the hallways
waiting for a difference
waiting for a change of pace
But I had waited to long
and soon settled in the emptiness.
Where did I go
I will never know
but I was gone that year, and the next.
Can't tell you specifically when I returned
but it only got worse
from there.
I was too different
to be accepted by society
So they put me in a box
and told me to be a good little lady.
Would I ever be free again?
Could I gnaw through the chasms of conformity
to find myself, whole as before?
When would I run through fields of gold?
One day it came to me
The only way out is up.
Through the stars and past the moon
Out of the Milky Way
Into the darkest realm in space
is where my conscience lays
A black hole, a black hole
What will I find there?
The answer is a mystery
But I know the Universe will share.

I'm not entirely sure what I want to write about today, so I suppose I will start off with the basics.
The weather is very cold for a May morning. It looks like it's about to rain.
I am incredibly sleepy, partly because I only got five hours of sleep last night, but also in part because cloudy days make me tired. I am on my third cup of coffee.
My mother is shaking her leg so violently it's as if I can feel the vibrations from across the floor. I hate it when she does that. Here we are, she and I, in the same room but saying nothing to one another. Ah, the power of technology.
I've been thinking a lot lately, retreating into myself so to speak. And I guess lots of things have been coming up that I didn't necessarily want to remember.
Who am I?
What am I?
Can I be defined by my sexual preferences?
I hope not.
Is it really just a phase, like mom said?
When will I see those trees again?
The secrets pouring out of my mind are scaring me,
kind of like a hallucinogenic nightmare.
I don't know whether or not to believe what my mind is telling me....
but it all seems right.
I seem to have lost my sense of self recently, and I'm very confused as to how that came about because the only person I really spend time with is me. I mean, sure. I have conversations with people. But I'm alone almost all day.
Is this the result of a culture shock?
A need to be different?
If so, who do I feel the need to prove myself to?
I'm grasping at reality, but what is it really?
Molecules and empty space stares back at me.
As if I should know the answer.
And why is it that people looks to the skies for hope and insight when all they really have to do is look inside themselves? They already know the answer.
It's as if people see the Universe as The Big Something.
But it's not.
I'm as much a part of the Universe as you,
or a star,
or a microorganism.
Does any of this make sense,
or am I rambling again?