I look around me and see people void of color or flair. Generic sneakers, shapeless khaki shorts, some flavorless shirt with a generic print or picture. It depresses me. Not only because I have to continuously stare at such a scene, but because I know that *they* can't be happy, right? Who could be so pleased with such banal life?

I do all sorts of things to spice of the boring bits of my existence. I wear freaky clothes sometimes, I hang with freaky folks, I go to freaky places. I switch it up...

But lately I've been gradually sliding into some pathetic cycle where I've been wearing tasteless clothes, I've been doing bland things. It's like having an array of spices only to be left with salt. What an insult!

So I'm spending my last few months in Raleigh trying to exercise, diet and generally beautify myself before I try to start it out again in another place. I have a few places in mind, all of which are no where near Raleigh, let alone the state it resides.

As per usual, I'm doing things all messy-style. I haven't packed a damn thing, and I only vaguely know where I'm keeping my stuff til I actually GO. My lease ends in the middle of June, and and I'll still have to wait out a couple months (especially if I end up going to Vegas with a friend of mine).

Anyway, is there any city that is worth moving to? I prefer big cities where I can walk everywhere. It seems like I upgrade where ever I go, but no place has ever truly satisfied my tastes.

I guess that's what happens when you have the attention span of a gnat. D:

We're all torn between being the villain and the superhero. Often I've wondered - where do I fall in that spectrum? Nothing is as simple as good versus evil, nor can anyone truly be in the middle of the road. If I was the latter, I would be assaulted by both sides. "Make a decision," they say. "No one can be both."

I can't imagine a single thing that I could count on as something for which to live. If the world can be divided into good and bad, then where is the connection? I suppose it's the relationships people share with each other. I used to think I needed no one, but recently I've been thinking that is not the case.

I was raised in an unfeeling household. I was compensated by the gift of freedom and independence; but even that cost me in the end. Tagged onto independence was unruliness. Attached to freedom was loneliness. They have been my companions and friends most of my life, and it seems that I can't rid of them no matter what any snakes may tell me.

Beauty will end, money will fade, and strength will diminish. I do not contain the dreams of yesterday, nor do I hope for tomorrow. There's nothing left of me, the science experiment left unattended. I am a bastion of evil.

People think the real bad guys are murderers and thieves, but they have no clue what else is out there. People like me are the sickness creeping through your lungs. We are the idea disease, ramming your mind with nightmares. We are mistaken and forsaken.

Then again, the world needs me. I will open what they push away. I can open their minds to let them see what they've always known but never had the courage to encounter alone. Does that make me a hero, or a villain?

At times, I am lethargic. I haven't any desire to move. I simply want to exist, and lay upon the softness of pillows, folds of sheets, entwined in a dream of a dream. I want to lay there and float, and scrape not the bottom of the world, for I want to soar high, and high I shall become without motivation or passion.

But on occassion, I feel ferocious energy, like a tempestuous storm! The cooling air courses through my veins, the lightning and loudness of the thunder, the tinny staccotto taps of bitter raindrops on rooftops flow through my blood and body. Nicotene, caffeine, taurine, all these things that stimulate me affect me so greatly. A maddening rush overcomes my brain and soul, the fuel for movement.

Calories become depleted in these extremeties. I stand still, at bay, waiting for the day that I can run to the sea, climb a mountain and fall into the womb depths of the valley to transform back into a calm state. My stomach rumbles like the lively jungle of trees or cities. I AM THE WORLD. I am both crazy and sane. I make sense to those who feel as I feel and do as I do, but the outsider understands not for the outsider is trapped outside.. or inside depending.. as I am free from all the containers in the world that others suffer within.

But as quickly as the nightmare of others come, a dream and a half for my delighted tongue, it ceases to exist within my mind. I grow tired and weak, an impossibilty only moments before. My hands shake, I grow sleepy, the world streams by at unimaginable speed. I float again on the drafts of escape. Tufts of dreamwind lift me upwards into the grey skies. I wait again for the moment where my thoughts and all become reality once more.

I starve, I weaken, I die.. But someday, an experience such as before will occur again. The streets will be filled with chaos. I will slowly gain the strength to walk about, calm on the surface, while inside a battle rages. It is inevitable, indubitable, powerful. It is myself.