Distorted Self...

As he stood in his balcony, in a story night, looking at the rain dropping from high above the heavens, He wondered what his life was. He thought of all the beliefs that had kept him lofted in the air so high. And what had become of him. How he once had it all, and e had lost it now.

Today he stood all alone, weak not having reached the stage he had dreamed about. Why did he feel the pain, why did he fell so alone, why was he so unsatisfied? Why he craved the longing of someone, lost in the shadows were all his dreams. His fears his failures were as if projected in front of him…

He smoked the last of his cigarette, looking at it, his murderer… Murderer he asked him self or his mistress… He asked himself, where he had gone wrong… at an age of 24, soon to be 25, he looked for what he had; NOTHING… except blank spaces created by his confusions could he see…

He could very well see his troubles, he knew what they were, but still he didn’t know how he could overcome them.

Having always worn a mask of a laughing face, he had forgotten who he really was. His emotions were all gone, and all he was now was a worn out dummy…

Sacrifice was what he believed in, sacrifice was what he did, but for what, was his question, why was his question. And now he stood all blank, all broken watching it all pass him by. And even though he had tried to fight it, tried to change himself, it had kept on hunting him, and now had eaten him alive.

The sound of thunder brought him back to life… LIFE! He thought, shifting back into the thoughts drifting in his mind.

He asked himself,

"24, and what have I to show for it”

he had surly gone stray.

"24"

He asked himself again,

"and what do I have to show for it, defeated, lost, unable to belong, unable to be a part of those I so desired to be…, I know they even still accept me for who I am, but then again they to think high of me, or maybe they just take pity on me, knowing for if they don’t accept me, who would?"

"ALL THINGS COME IN TIME"

;

he heard a deep voice say to him, his conscious trying set him at peace;

He shouted he screamed,

"when will it be the time u speak of. When will it be my moment, when I'd be content and complete? I'm lost I'm broken, I don't even know myself anymore, I've wasted it all I've destroyed it all"

.

I'm a failure, a loser a disaster, even a manic for all that I've been called.

He pictured them all, he could hear them laughing at him, making fun of him, calling him names. Joking about everything there was to him... and then he saw her face, she who had become a victim of his insecurities; he still remembered her last words that she had said to him, before she left, before she moved on to another man, “your too immature” yes immature he was he thought to himself, or just unable to find what he so searched for… scared about commandment as much as he was, he searched for his preferences in all that he was with… unable to find what he desired he had only knew of one think that he could do, and that is run away, not even bothering to look back, he was a monster he thought, and had decided not to look for or get involved…

But would they let him be in peace, would they let him be alone, no they wouldn’t and joked about him demoralizing him even more… and so he joked about his so called 20 minute crushes as an attempt to get them to back off… and before he knew it, it to become a part of him, something he was unable to stop…

Was he a freak, he asked himself, placed in a world where he did not belong?

He wondered how he could of lost himself in the fog, how he had lost his control, and how he could get it back…

The rain had stopped and he could feel droplets on his face, yes he was crying…

He left the thought in mid air, and decided to retire to his bed… but could not help wonder if he’d even be normal, if he’d ever be satisfied…

He tried to scream again, but all heard was silence, even his own voice had betrayed him, making him feel even more alone…

"ALL IN GOOD TIME"

He heard the deep voice coming from the winds again;

telling him again, not to be low, and that everything would be all right,

He looked back in to the hollow space, this time, with aggression on his face… his temper visible, so was his rage; he shouted out loud, yes he had found his voice again,

" I'M TIRED OF ALL THESE WORDS, SO DON'T TELL ME THIS AGAIN! "

And with these words, he disappeared into his room, never to be seen or heard from again...