Marketing
Holding my last breath... Safe inside myself...
...Am I pretty...?
For if nothing else, I would ike to be a pretty corpse...
Life had sucked all strength from me. I cannot even admire the nature, the freedom around me anymore. I am slowly rotting inside, realizing more and more painful truths I had decided to ignore over the years. Have I searched for so long, brooding about how to live, deciding to live in dreams, or to be dead inside, or to hope, or to feel like I know salvation will come... But now I realize that there are no such things. Life gives us a fantasy, a dream about its greatness, but it's only that. Once you realize it, you have to be strong enough to survive. And I have no more strength.
Long, it seems so long ago, I decided I would live my life through art... Enjoying the sunset, the music, the sea, the clouds, the shade of the trees, the freedom and the majority of it all... And I did. Through all the hatred and contempt and unworthiness life kept throwing at me, I would always feel at ease... Listening to a particular song or watching the warm colors the sunset shot at me.
But someone... someone is having so much fun seeing how much I will last. How funny. And I get the message... There is no escape for me... Through anything... With anyone... Finally I understand how much I do not matter. No matter how hard I try to please people. To do what I think they want. But no... Everything is futile... Until I became numb. Numb to everything. I don't even cry anymore.
I want to run away... Somewhere to regain my strength... My complete happiness and peace just watching and/or listening to things around me. I would like to roam around, finding beauties of every place and in every season... Go about the earth, dance in the rain, float in the find, sleep in the depths of the sea... But my dreams don't matter. My dreams are dirt which people walk upon. And I am a little dirty child, nobody's child, left to die in the cold because people have too many worries to help someone so little and insignificant, destined to die alone, filthy, hungry and tearful... There is no hope for me. Hope is an invented thing. Like art, it's quite useless.
I wish to run away... Somewhere far away... I will be alone, but at least not walked upon, humiliated, and shown about all my unworthiness every day... Just when I think I could live like that, no matter what the situation I'm in is like, somthing new happens to bury me deeper. I believe that now there is no further down I could go... So if only I could run away... One way...
Or the other...
And since nobody cares, what purpose is there to go on? ^_^
Post je objavljen 24.11.2007. u 09:15 sati.