I always knew I was different. It was obvious from the day I was born. I wasn’t like the others around me. But that was fine by me, hell it still is. I don’t want to be like the others around me. I like being different. I’ve always seen the world differently than many others. They saw it as a cruel place that was inescapable but I saw it as my own personal Wonderland. It was the escape. It’s dark and bright, crazy and sane, uncontrollable, untouchable, wanted and not wanted. And I for some reason I find it fascinating. But yet, I couldn’t tell you why. I guess it’s meant to be an eternal mystery to both myself and others. But isn’t that quite fun? The mystery of it all? It makes things less boring. Besides, who would ever want to be bored let alone boring? I guess you could probably tell if you looked into my head that I’m a bit full of myself, that I love myself too much. But that’s just not the case, I hate myself from time to time, I scold myself, hell, I even dis...
A boy with a lot of things in his head sharing them for the world to see. Hopefully everyone finds something of interest in my post!