Thought I'd write...

PSYCHOLOGY

In the depths of this physical

Or outside of this realm

Talking free to let loose the wandering tales of thought

Talking of dreams, apparently another en route to the psyche

Wonders of a jacket in a shop, relationships with e-mails and last night dinner

Trying to draw maps of paths between each topic

They attempt the impossible

As I talk am I to believe that I am finding my way

To the so-called happiness those walkers passing me have already reached

Smiles and tears that Ie seen, laughter and anger Ie visited

Am I lost or walking a path that others have not been on

Sane and Insane, the border between has not been drawn clearly

Have I crossed over to where I am not meant to be

Yet who is to tell me where I am meant to be

Doctors with their certificates, proof that they have ventured high and low

Reading lengths of pages in manuals based on ideas argued on for years

They listen with their eyes on their pen and paper

Giving pills to a disease of origins unknown

So I sit with the pills in my hand, a cup of water in another

An oasis to those travelling in the desert with their head in the skies

Will I join them, walking in circles at the revolving doors at the Doctor office

What will you think of me

How will I look

want, need, desire...

in company

the glasses, in beauties of oranges and reds

shining silver clash with white china

and laughter, much laughter

the smoke dances and so does time

then in soltitude

wonder and thought take hold

no one is near to share the misery of the day

yet all that is in this id is the company i shared

just moments before to decades ago

reality is cruel and then so is life

as others walked by on the streets

I share the curiosity

of stories

so many stories of similiarity and differences

of romance, comedy and tragedy

yet none to be shared in that moment we pass by

alone, still alone

is one to endure the single bed for good

delusions, dreams ans desires

as we sat together on that sofa

taking the branded paper cup of a Siren

awake and listening hours on end

yet after, a wonder floats by

did I really hear you speak such words

'I care for you'

doubting love is surely a sin

but I have travelled to such a place all these years

how am I to take in such words

but do I love you if I reject them

do I love my friends at all, have I ever loved

this experience before me I prayed it was a lie

but nothing is more truthful then what one expeiences awake

so I escape to sleep

to rid of such thoughts

in the heavly white fluff of cotton and feathers

as they stain with spots in rusting red

I don't want to wake to see the sun shine

yet you will not let me be

you will wake me and give me my first waking moment of the day

you're in my head

It's not that I am not loved, I am just unimportant...

I look back to the past and I see why I was the only one, I was the one organising my own party, I was the one making the calls, I wanted to feel like I could do something and that I was needed even for that little moment. I wnated to feel like I was needed to accomplishs omething, even if it was not-so-inportnat to anyone elde. That is why I took on roles as a leader, volunteered and organised things.

Now I am here without a role or of any relevance to anyoneor anything. Just another being with a few bits here and there that highlight my existance in the crowd.

If I leave it wouldn't make a difference yet men, they're inclined to tell me I would. That if I had left it would break hearts and that people do love me.

I know that and so I have not left my seat. Though I certainly do not love everyone and nor does everyone love me and so I suppose I deserve this feeling of insginificance, this inability to smile upon every face and present them with something positive rather then curse them in truth of how I feel. I can't love.

People are asking of my future and I really don't know how to reply to them. I do not know what i wnat of my future, I was hoping for no such thing as a future.

I am not sick and I am the 'average' joe... nothing is wrong, I just got to stick with it for my life and I pass the test and I have lived right? It is done like a paper that one would hate to write. It would all be done, I just don't know how long this life is meant to be and no one is tellign me it can be shorter than meant to be...

lately...

emo, that may be the word

I wonder as the clocks tick away, I write in a book and draw on brown pages

Where it came from and who it is for I do not know

Maybe just hope, but I wnat no hope, I left my dream for someone else to pick up

That is what I told myself, I don't want another chance

But like I could not leave family or freinds, as long as I live I can't forget it

I want another me, another life

Would people love me for that though? Would I love at all if I was not loved?

I know no one checks my site anymore much.... but here I am still alive. It has only been 3 months since the last entry. I am guilty of this too but no one leaves comments anyway so I ceased to care for this site as everyone transfered to mixi, myspace or continue their loyalty to some other blogs. I just wanted to write something other than a paper, something other than what an instructor or a professor may read (although by some random event someone with such an occupation may be reading this).

It is strange... more and more, as winter blows its cool breeze over this direction I could not wish for death sooner. If I am diagnoised with depresssion or SAD, great, but I am not and so seen as capable. I suppose I am capable of choosing life and death. So would it make me crazy/irrational/insane/mental to wish for death? Why is there no right for me or for anyone to die if we have the right of choice?

There is a railway I take to get to uni and it is dead straight for miles at ground level. It is a much popular location for suicides and therefore delays in the entire railway system. If it so common for people to die there I stop to wonder if anyone would mind if I joined in. It is an everday event, nothing new. As the train comes to take me to school or take me home, I think... what if I just step off.

I am fortunate, loved, maybe even talented and set for life... or was. There are people that fight to live, there are others that fight for the lives of people they have never met. On the other side there are those that wish death. Does it not make sense for this balanced existance? Some may say I have only lived 20 years, am still young but to some it may be long enough.

I lived to avoid hurt that it may cause aftre death. I was either gifted or cursed with other people in my life that I chose to bring into my life and those that came by. I suppose the only right I do not have is to hurt them by my actions if I can avoid it. But if a loved one was close to death, you'd give them rest right?

What would you do if you were me? What do I need? What am I missing? Could you fill in my gaps?