Wednesday

I try to read something everyday that no one else is reading. I think things no one else is thinking. I like my uniqueness, if everyone sings the same note there never is any harmony. Just because I wonder around does not mean that I am lost. In order to break out of my prison, I have to realize first that I am locked up. I remember in kindergarten having pictures of things and having to pick which didn’t belong. I guess they didn’t realizing that they were teaching me that different is wrong. I’m my journal I keep, I don’t follow the scored lines, I write sideways which is considered the wrong way. I’ve worn a mask so long that it has become a part of me. In order to remove it I must remove some of my own skin to. I am the artist to my life. Not only am I the canvas, but also the paints, paintbrushes, and the painter. My life is what I make of it. In the book of my life there are chapters which I don’t reread and definitely don’t read out loud. It’s funny how you usually find your destiny when you are trying to avoid it. I am finding that the more I look, the less I see. Your gaze I have to look away from. For my eyes speak loudly, you can see my feelings clearly.