CHAPTER 4 (Failure, Confusion and Error)

Introspect… as this time is passing by, crashing as I die, I’m often asking, asking, why, no matter how hard I try, in the end, I seem to find, myself descend, out of mankind, in the back of my mind, watching their lives, and emotional ties, night after night, blind after sight, minutes at a time, push the limits of my mind, as I introspect, as I recollect, my retrospect’s, somehow it all connects, to living in fear, with vision so unclear, blinded by an invisible tear, coping with the evilness of a world so severe, leaving me alone out here, pacing again, facing the end, retracing my steps, relating events, that never made any sense, specific memories, of sadistic tendencies, of others giving into their fear, when there true selves were near, no wonder I’m all alone out here, pacing again, contemplating the end, as I try, to fantasize, about a life to live, but just psychoanalyze, and never compromise, the time to give, back to the thought, of the society I fought, the self image I’ve bought, and the conformity I’ve been taught, the normalcy I’ve lost, the price of everything and what life has cost, am I really me, or just a victim of imagery, with the wisdom of what I see, breaking down sanity, unleashing personality, and true reality, as I introspect, somehow it will all connect, as I recollect, my intellect, lost for years, still alone out here, screaming into a deaf ear, staring into this blind atmosphere, with vision crystal clear, as I’m pacing to vent, split into 50 percent, alone making amends, with imaginary friends, engraving my skin, reaching emotions deep within, bleeding out this melancholy feeling, gives my mind some healing, from falsified believing, emotional deceiving, killing my mental projection, of my self inflicting, contradicting, insecure reflection, it’s all an illusion, of precise and elaborate confusion, encased in all I see, in faces, in traces, of all she breathes, words of truth, to fulfill my needs. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her, Not a faceless lie can dream inside and out of the days we were, It’s funny how I can think so much of memories, a life, a place, a time, a face, so unclear, the product of my fear, the love I feel, all of these things, possibly not even real… Remembering simply a feeling… A simple emotion, turned into a lifelong devotion, that has shaped my entire being, Of a brain that’s wired and seeking, the evolution of my resolution, fighting my way out of this mental institution, trapped inside this lie, the confines of my own mind, Sometimes I wonder if I have been in love all this time, with a fragmentation of my own imagination… Guess I’ll never know… the future sucks me into its time frame, into its mind game, and the further away she goes.