A Writers Tale

Here I stand,  24, feeling less than alive... Trying to hide behind the light even though the light is exactly what illuminates the lies I tell myself, When I'm awake in a personal nightmare which is both creating a beauty beyond belief and also crushing all the beauty that had previously been, Such backwards logic, unjust thinking, You can't hide behind that which illuminates.  I once saw the world with a glimmer of hope, a belief that everything works out on the whole, I felt wonder in all shapes and forms,  Nobody was truly evil, nobody was truly as bad as the world made them seem, I was just a girl, shrouded in dreams, Of a world that may never be...  Silly of me, really...  For perfection lies between the lines of imperfection.  I see this now... There is no such thing as a more perfect world than that of which we live, I am just a girl,  a tiny insecure blim of nothingness...  And I am wishing and praying...

Day 1 Take us through a written walk down your street and to your favorite place through the eyes of somebody else. starting from the train station down the ramp, across the road, up the path, bench to left, another ramp to train station on the left hand side, bushes at the right hand side next to the path, further up the path, traffic lights, cross the road, over the windy bridge, into town, turn right walk along the one way road, to my left across the road is a shop that sells stoves, a café, a shop which sells holidays but never seems to be open, turning left, to the left bernados, to the right a nice little area to sit down, 3 benches in a curved area surrounded by scenic bushes and trees strategically placed in half an arc, up the road I walk, past an empty shop with a smashed front window, it has been like that for years, to the left a tunnel towards the town market. forward I plunder past some optician, mannequins with glasses all staring ominously out of the window...

Oh I wish I wish, I wish I could stop, Believing in what I'm not, I wish I could stay secure in my mind But I'm not as strong as I make myself out to be I'm weak, and deluded and wish I could just be free The truth of this society It hurts me, it makes me bleed intermittently I wish for more and then I know its worthless Because ultimately I feel worthless. But I don't always feel this way, The majority of time I'm upbeat and unafraid But then these moments come around, where everything is too much, everything is overwhelming, the noises of cupboard doors crashing, the sounds of people coughing and sneezing, the buzz of electricity through the house, I could hear a pin drop and I would surely yelp. I begin to ache for some sort of freedom, to be cleansed from the world that I live in. Everything is too much, I feel it deep inside. This is life's emotional roller coaster ride. People with their high energy vibrations of annoyance and fear, I'm...