Regression

There are no such thing as ideas anymore.
They are shared or if not,
unwritten history; yet again:
rich off or poor of.
Black and White. :
they beg for more,
and I just don't want to. <----- !
At the end of the day,
they fight so hard,
but they are fighting their own flaws.
yet they seem to get nothing out of it,
the feeling ov people just talking at you,
not even saying anything of importance.
Except your parents who knew all along
that your dreams couldn't become true
because you were born into "struggle"
and then we believe their ideas;
because we are just lazy.
Just. normal.
I never was normal,
nor never wanted to be.
Let society consume you,
let yourself be at ease,
I'd rather die,
BECAUSE NO ONE UNDERSTANDS
the intellectual is alone and before its time
sometimes they destroy themselves
with drugs to think like one of us
a selfish act but only human

I've been learning how to do things by myself. I am learning to get lost in books, in nature, meditation, I can enjoy and appreciate the feeling ov healing myself.

my story is still getting told

When will anyone appreciate what an artist has to say? What does it take? Will they listen 20 years from now, or when we die? Is this why to be an artist we must learn to find patience?

die in me.
die
die
die
di
.
.
.
.
.

day 24

still coughing and it is annoying. I am ___, for no reason. my throat is itchy. I went to 24 hour fitness and had a good sleep. woke up early, early, early bird catches the worm. I want to make more art. I am traumatized by crazy people. Why are there people like this in the world? I just close the door and lock it so I don't have to worry about it all. Don't want to see you smoke, or hang out with you to watch you smoke. I want ice cream instead. And bike rides

I can now honestly say that "I love myself" and ready to accept whatever life will give to me.

day 15 no smoking

I am starting to feel heathier but I still have an annoying cough