Writings:
A Small Pearl
"The Game"
Poems/Songs
Year One
Year Two
Year Three
Year Four

Other Stuff:
DND Merchandise
Silent Muse
Music Discussion Forum
Friends and Inspirations
Words Never Die
Quick Pretention

A nice place to visit. . .

Ever been to Disneyland? It's a wonderful place, really. There are lots of fun rides to stimulate your senses, fun things to see and experience, souveniers that'll make you smile, and call me a sap, but I actually like waving to/getting hugs from the people in the Disney Character costumes. If you're lucky to catch an evening show, fireworks included, you witness quite an impressive display. In fact, even though it's polluted with enough people to make anyone claustrophobic, for most it's an overall positive experience.

But you couldn't really live in Disneyland. Sure, the people that work there probably come close to doing such. And yes, there's food, soft places to sleep, and I don't doubt that there are even showers and the like around as well. But c'mon. . . the constant deluge of people would drive you mad, and even if the rides and attractions never became boring, they would definitely wear on you after a while. And there are just certain things lacking in Disneyland that a home requires. There's no sense of belonging. The rides will stimulate your senses, but will they truly help you to grow? The attractions will cause you to think, perhaps, but will they really fill your soul? The cutesy characters will make you smile, and they may even be your friends, love you, and make you feel special. But at the end of the night, even they will go home to their families and you will wander the darkened park alone, looking for your purpose amongst the show without an audience, realizing that you may be nothing more than an attraction yourself. And just as you cannot find a home there, no one will find a home in you. . .

This world seems to be my Disneyland. The events of my life are spectacular twists and turns on rides, but lately I feel like I'm just riding them because they're there and it's what I'm supposed to do. I watch and I observe, but more and more I feel like that's all I'm doing: catalouging the world. And I love and am loved, but everyone has to leave sometime. For everyone else, this is home. This is life. But me. . . I can't deal with this. I know this isn't just Charlottesville. . . this is everywhere. This is society. And right now, like often, I feel like a visitor. I feel like I'm not "programmed correctly". . . I don't have the abilities to take this all in stride like I should. Any minute now, I should be going home. . . I want to go home, but this is my home. This is supposedly where I belong, so why do I feel so out of place? It's not my friends. . . they do all they can. It's not my job; I can deal with it and it pays the bills. It's me. I can't stand being here anymore. Everything I'm told I'm supposed to do seems pointless, and everything I feel makes me angry.

I don't want to be attracted to people. I don't want to produce and consume. I don't want to care about the score. I don't want to find respite in sex, booze, or television. All these distractions are just that: they are all little rides to escape from the world, but at the same time they are the world. And I feel like it's time for me to leave the park, but no one knows what we've escaped anymore.

This probably makes no sense, but it does to me. Summed up in a single sentence: I do not belong here, on this planet, in this life. If I do, something in my head is completely convinced that I don't, and it needs to shut the hell up.

My safety is not an issue, so don't start taking away all the sharp objects. But I'm being honest with you all right now: no hiding, no filters, nothing. I am not in a good place. It is no one's fault at all, it's just where I am. Yes, I've said that a lot, because it's happening more often. The more time I spend on this earth, the more I realize that the best I'm going to be able to do is find a few things that make it worth staying here. Congratulations. . . you are it.