You know when your breathing something in and it feels like the air you should be breathing? Then you walk away, and return to where you were, and you feel like you don't belong?
When I escape into my dreams, I feel like i'm breathing that air. And I awake to reality, to the world that surronds me.
As I sat on a park bench one day, beside an abberently large ten year old or so, as I sat at the dinner table with the "ideal family", as I spoke among the peers at my lunchtable, I found out I was the only one that thought the world was this slowly decaying, like the old clawfoot tub in my musty shed, decreasing more and more as people did uglier and uglier things, abolishing any beauty that lied here.
I didn't always believe this, no child does. Every child grasps onto those ideas that authorized by their parents to feel, to see, to construct. They dream of blues, and greens, and reds and purples and things that are fun, that bring forth smiles and every bit of the world seems like a new inch of a playground to discover. A scrape or a bruise puts you farther down that ladder, and that feeling of spinning only occurs when on the merry-go-round. You don't hit the ground as hard when you fall, and you like being chased after. You hate being called inside, but inside is no cage to you, you just dream of tomorrow and all those colors.
Only now, you wish like hell that you felt even a little bit like that. Growing up means opening up, seeing more then that's just... there. Hope and dreams dont exist the way that they used too. And you can't help but want to escape out of everything that closes you in now, but you don't, and you can't, because you've seen too much... now. Thrown into all this ugliness, with flailing arms, and open mouth, and abousetly no choice.
I had this idea once that if I met someone that felt the same, I could crawl back right back into my skin. I don't believe i've met anybody like that, so I'm starting to doubt its truth. And sometimes I wish I could find my way out of all this doubting. Because in a world that does not believe in truth, where am I left to go? It'd be much easier if I had someone to go with through this path, that seems so absurd to everyone else, but living to me.