The wind will never die and The waves in the ocean will never die. Everything in life is no more real then the ideas we force onto our lives. Nothing is more real than an idea of your own. No one can destroy your ideas.
The sound of eerie childish voices and closed minded fakes resonating throughout my skull as I clench my jaw resisting to jam my fist in the faces of the voices I hear. So often I feel out of place in this well “clicked” school I now call my own. I can’t adapt. I can’t be fake. I refuse to abandon my self just for their acceptance. I have my new friends but they aren’t my true friends. They have no knowledge of my deeper self, no knowledge of my past. I only am troubled by this cause I ultimately dread the deep dark and desolate hole of isolation. All so critical or am I so critical?