Being Unique

Uniqueness is often a trait we seek after. Traits are what make us all who we are. We don’t always have a say about a lot of our traits. Some are quite simply a product of how and where we were raised.

Running around with scissors can be dangerous. Knowledge itself can be a dangerous concept. Yet here we are metaphorically running with scissors.

The music continues to play. We have no control over the music. It’s quite an unfortunate happenstance. In this instance, the music represents voices and hallucinations. They can be a menace for sure. So many things to hear and relate to our own existence.

Maybe it’s the little things that get on my nerves most days. I don’t know how else to put it all. Feels like a waste of time to worry about what the intrusive thoughts have to say to me.

I can wish all I want, but let’s fact it. Wishing never got me a damn in the first place.

I have a lump in my throat. It’s been there all fucking day. Pretty sure it’s anxiety related. I’m anxious about something, it could be life itself. Yeah that pretty much tracks. So much for hoping for a better day ahead. Life feels impossible right now. I don’t know how else to say it.

Maybe life has a purpose, then again maybe it doesn’t. It could be a game we end up playing in hopes to fix the shattered dream. Talk about a wild ride. When I try to make sense of it all, there doesn’t appear to be a way to make that possible.

We all have our inner demons. Sometimes such demons come in the form of hallucinations. That’s just the nature of the beast I fear. Talk about quite a mix-up at times. Nothing can make the voices go away, they like to stick around. It’s quite sad.