Bosses on both ends. The story of a man with control everywhere. A desire to break free, but the inability to do so. Life is this constant thought process and fantasy and contemplation rather than a reality. The reality is too boring and rather than change it, he hides deep within the recesses of his mind and creates a world in which he is a music critic, a foodie a creator, a writer and something of a vigilante. He uses the lives others and the world around him to create a mentality that helps him bare reality, when in fact he’s just ignoring it. It’s not so to him and is instead a place for him to express himself and write and create and revolutionize while he stews within himself instead of putting it out there. Constantly reminded of the fact that he’s thinking inwardly instead of expressing outwardly, he’s trained to be this way by society, by his family, by himself. Life is a series of compromises until the final compromise of existence is met. Giving your life to the earth in exchange for rest. Rest from life and all that you defend yourself from. A constant, neverending battle ends in the eternal sleep. No matter the resilience, we’re all there in the end. Whether you’re the toughest mother ****er around or the bitchiest, suicidal **** that ever existed. The level playing field is not found anywhere as easily accessible as death. This plane of exist that equalizes us all. Yet, what’s on the other side can’t be known by us, can’t even be comprehended. We agonize everyday thinking about what’s on the other side of that door. People discuss out of body experiences, theories are generated, religions followed for thousands of years, whole kingdoms created around the idea of what the afterlife is. Yet, when the final light flashes and we’re staring into the closed-eyelid abyss of the end of existence on this Earth, the millennia of time is meaningless. Nothing in the entire world matters. It’s what lies ahead that is still on our minds. Stopping to think about the present is possible, but can never be the only thing you are doing. Sometimes, you have to reflect, but forward is there. You can be sitting in the middle of the race forever, but the finish line doesn’t go away. So, do I continue this existence of sadness that is an inward expression while avoiding the outside at all cost? Or do I blow it out? Free everything inside and throw caution to the wind? It’d be the first real risk I ever took in my life. It could ruin everything that I have. Every person I ever loved or cared for could be so alienated by me that all hope seems lost. Who am I kidding? Those that I cared for I never showed that care to and those that cared for me I never noticed. Never truly built a relationship that withstood the boundaries of social norms. She may be the closest I’ve ever come to being completely opened. But I don’t think anyone knows me, inside and out. Hell, I don’t know me. I don’t know me. Goddammit, you ****ing “who am I” question always creeping in. I need to stop thinking about who I am constantly. No one ever knows. Instead, I need to express myself. Outwardly. Writing? Music? It’s a sad state of affairs when you’re just talking about yourself, but when your whole life has been filled with internal contemplation, what else do you have to say?
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