Monday, August 10, 2009

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05.07.08

Sometimes my nights are entirely sleepless wondering how this came to be. When I was younger I hoped my future would be flawed with perfection. Now that I'm older, that future is my past and it is far from how I envisioned it. No windless nights spent glancing at the stars looking for that image that would explain the world. No perfection has been obtained, lost or even missed. No soul has joined mine to create something new, a reaction, a spark, or even an imbalance to my current equilibrium. My heart has never outraced my mind, nor has it stopped for long enough to truly appreciate its beat. It has been monotonously continuing throughout my life.

Not once have my decisions been made by something other than my mind. Time has never slowed, stopped or even raced by. It has always been continual. I have not experienced what others seem to live for. This makes me question my purposes. Perhaps I am only here to be half complete. To be the product that never made it to the shelves but rather was thrown away. Or perhaps I will make it to the shelves accidentally and merely cause disappointment and tears. I will not cause a single smile.

Not once have I understood another being, nevermind to the point where I knew them as well as myself. My heart has never smiled, although my face surely has. Perhaps that indicates that I've never truly smiled and am merely an imitation meant to trick those not searching for a defect. I have never been asked to dance and been twirled as though I were the world. No one has ever told me that I mean more than the world to them. But I am incapable of conducting such feelings.

As I look into the future that will one day be my past, I no longer hope for beauty. I have come to the realization that I have no understanding of what beauty actually is. I can convince myself that the truth of the matter is that everything is beautiful. But I now know that just means that nothing is beautiful. I can only hope that someone might come along who has been tricked into believing that something is beautiful and maybe that something is me.

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