Who hasn't desired perfection in their life...?
We all have.

Yet, somehow... I've achieved it.

Or I'm in the process of it. So, why is my heart beating and clawing at my chest as if it's been buried alive...?

I've just been tipped off by one of the top vice president's at my work place of a job opportunity that would be very fitting to me. She has already given them a recommended me to them. I would be getting double my pay (more than what some teachers make). Not to mention the title: Accounting Administrator at a top notch company of architects & designers... You can't get fancier than this.


I felt the hard leather once more. It curled around my fingers like it had so long ago. I remembered. Rage, sadness, fury, pure viciousness. I felt like myself again.
It's been so long.
I'd grown accustomed to the soft steering wheel with the sleek turns and slow pedal...

I could be perfect. I have the capacity to fool everyone into thinking of me as a capable, talented, and intelligent young man with a polite personality, with my own house, car, and high paying job, wonderful girlfriend and blossoming social life. But I'm not. That's not me.

I YEARN to get my hands dirty once more!
I long for those tired days and long nights. I grow jealous and bitter of old school friends who went on to do that which they love. I miss the theater. I miss acting. I miss putting on makeup like it was war-paint, and memorizing lines like a soldier practicing with his weapon. I miss getting lost in paints and colors and designs and other worlds that are yet to be created! People have emasculated the arts. What they don't see is the madness that dances behind each artist's eyes, like the fire licks the feet of some poor tortured hellbound soul. There is strength there. There is resilience. There is power. There is control, at least within those that are worth their salt.

No... I can not keep going down this path.
I have been on it for too long.........





I know this is entry is to no avail.
I will apply. I may get it, I may not.
I seek my freedom from these chains the world has bound me to.
Maybe then I can truly follow my desires and be true to myself.
Until then, if I must whore my way out of this prison, I will.

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Yes! I'm weird! I get it! Can we move on now?!?!

I get that I'm strange. I get that I'm different, but why must we ALWAYS dwell on it?! How many times do I have to explain to people that I have different perspectives on things that the majority often agree on?! Nevermind even trying to explain WHY I have different ideas about what's truly "good" on this world...

Whatever.

I keep going on a daily basis, nodding my head and smiling through your pathetic little attempts at "living", never arguing with you or trying to stop you from wreaking the havoc you so thoroughly enjoy. Yet, you can't, for one stinkin' minute, let it go that I simply didn't enjoy ONE movie because of my values and concepts of true worth?!

No, that's okay. I prefer to stay a freak in your eyes than to bow down to the soma you all slurp on.

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