mutedprophet

I wonder how long I will survive in this house - the house of a hundred rooms
with doors leading to nowhere, and stairwells that crumble under foot. I don't
know how I arrived in this place, or how I will make my escape, or if I ever will
escape at all.

Sometimes I hear muffled voices, and sinister giggling. Is it my mind caving...
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I am in this mad house. I am frightened.

I can hear voices in the other room....

It is dark, all around me. I do not know where I am.

People are always trying to give me their two cents worth on
how I should behave, what I should pursue, who I should be
with, what I should dress like, how I should carry myself, blah
blah, blah.

It is enough to make me want to blow chunks in all of their faces.

But if you know anything about me, you know that I am...
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Beauty is not defineable, and it is most definitely subjective.
What I find beautiful is what someone else finds abhorrent.

But that is the fascinating thing about vision and perspective.

For every person, there is at least one individual who finds them attractive.
Thus, we can all say that we are beautiful to someone, for surely there is that someone
out there who will find...
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It never ceases to amaze me how rampant ignorance and illiteracy is
these days. No, I'm not referring to the humble idiots who are at least
trying to be better, I am referring to the lazy bastards who have the
brains, who have all the resources to learn, but don't take advantage.

Sometimes, I wish the government would do something productive
for once. Like, enacting...
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Just returned from Dublin, Belfast, Glasgow, and Paris - now back in the P.U.S.A - yes, I am ungrateful - could be stuck in Afghanistan wearing a Berkha and getting beat by my brother - but then I would have already been raped to death because I would have fought back and lost.

I wish I could just disappear....

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