Conversations between me and myself

Stones, taught me to fly
Love, taught me to lie
Life, taught me to die
So its not hard to fall,
When you float like a cannonball.

I want magic to possess my fingers, allowing me to write things that i would never write, people i would never care for, movies i would never watch, things i would never dare to love.
I feel empty, completely hollow, as if ive been expelled from all spheres of normalcy and enthusiasm. I want to take risks, and for once in my life, do something because i want to, not because its what everyone else is doing. Sometimes i just want to be me. But its so scary, the very thought is terrifying. Im not a good person, neither am i worthy of other peoples attention, or other peoples care. I forget sometimes, that i am nobody.

My fingers are numb, a reflection of my current state of mind. Cursed voodoo dances through my veins, and sometimes, i want to give into the chant. Everything is cold, distant, i live in moulded perceptions of my existence. I refuse to accept things, move on, pick up the broken shreds of my life and start a fresh. What do i do instead? I walk on, the shreds cut through, and i bleed. And i cry, and my tears wash away the pain. But its all temporary. Pictures come back, voices resume their ranting, and soon, everything is back to how it used to be.

I manufacture illusions. I create these little bubbles of happiness, only because so much sorrow is impossible to mantain for so long. I forget that i am alone, that everyone around me is in crisis, and, as im binded to them, i fall with them, into a pool of strangers, each trying to upstage each other, each trying to make the biggest sacrifice, the biggest leap of faith.

I know that ill do the right thing, take the high road, its always the harder one, but im used to it. I dwell deeper into denial, afraid to wake up, to see the world for what it is. A world of misery and pain, some of which i had a part in. I refuse to comprehend that im capable of causing other people pain. Its convenient, i expect so much from people, but give absolutely nothing in return. I run from the truth, too scared to acknowledge it, because it will tell me that im not perfect, there are people out there who are better than me, who try harder, who achieve more- who are actually content with the person they have become

my halo is slipping down to choke me now