That old t.v. show The Prisoner, they had it right. A man is his own warden, he builds his own walls, forges the bars that hold him back. He can convince himself there's nothing he can do, no place he can go, no one...who will love him.
People look at me and see the above-average. Smart, capable, etc etc etc. But I don't let them see the chaos. I open up to someone and they're consoling, happy even. At first. But over time they start to see me as a freak.
Why? they ask. What can I tell you? I don't want to be like this, but I am.
But you can change. they say. Of course I can, and I do. But I don't know what I'm supposed to change into.
Oh. Neither do I.
And things usually go down hill from there.
I travel so much, read so much, *do* so much, and it no longer brings me joy. I'm so alone sometimes it hurts. What's the true Path? How do I fix myself? I'm probably just saying this because I'm depressed, but lord it's so hard to figure out what to do sometimes.
Listening to: The Lost Fleet, but Jack Campbell
Reading: Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess
Watching: House, Season 2
Playing: Rock Band
Drinking: Stevia Rootbeer