Laugh Tracks

My spirit leaps when it's lonely. An alien environment. I would like to describe it better. Unfortunately, communicating a feeling is difficult, moreso a construct from a synchronous multitude. All these eyes and expectations, I escape it all for a short while. I'm still utterly alone, save for a golden ring that provides stability in the form of love. Then back to earth. With little idea of what's expected of me. Hopes. Dreams. It is the saddest, scariest place I have ever been - but mainly because I travel there alone. I see life, complex and beautiful, but need to feel its heart. I take a step here and am inundated with confusion, my own and that of others, cattle prods, tasers, and a wall.

Whatever I went through, whoever took the reins, I am left fearing my own initial judgements as if they're being judged themselves by observers. The virtue in me, a simple process, the need for time to simultaneously bridge the world inside my head and the external, the space to dream, that's disappearing. The environment of maps and autonomous reaction, instant gratification within those boundaries, one I have attempted to avoid for a long while. It's not who I am. Nevertheless, even if I were to choose that path for an arbitrary reason, I will always be confronted with someone else's willed wall, confronted with a negative interpretation, I'm actively sought out, and I feel as if the reasons for doing so are questionable. Youthful enthusiasm. The biggest hurdle in my life. Not the drug use or the over indulgence, which I'm capable of compensating for.

I'm a caged animal, or an organism capable of soaring to heights incomprehensible. A lonely prison with torment at both ends of the spectrum. I don't know if I'll find a practical solution. I'm being forced to stare death in the face. Such a simple action. I'm safe, but I'm dying, and I don't know what this is worth.