How Are You?

Well, I'm

Hating the terrible recognition within my brain - writers block unfolds and presents me a pen. I eye it with hesitance. So much clutter has seemed to fill the want, but as my ink touches the paper that feeling fades. I wade in the waters of confusion and feel a mix of anger and hatred - they flush my face with heat. I hate your guts but you still make my skin hot. This is one of the vary demons that haunt me.
I cannot bring myself to face the world. Sometimes I feel I don't matter. Not just me, all of us. I constantly wish to be on my own so these demons will break the chains they've locked on my neck and leave me be. They follow my every move and remind me of the hate - the state of mind I once resorted to. And now it invites itself into me and anger releases through my pores, making me ask for more. I hate everything, or so it seems, frustrations within all, even in my dreams. They're blank and hold nothing to say, because the world focuses my eyes another way. I hate you for what you turned this into. I hate me for letting go. I hate her for knowing, and she hates him for showing it.
Time is forever fucking endless in this piece of shit town where nothing fades and we all live in shades of grey. To this day still to be judged, two years with no consideration from the jury who sit in my courtroom - yet they dictate the rules? Society is bullshit.
Everything muddles and results to nothing.
Lovers cuddle but love absolutely nothing.
The "king" wears a crown but does a good nothing.
Even when I could, there I stood, doing nothing.
It's unbelievable, the way life is, I just don't understand. People spend their whole lives searching for answers and die without. It makes me so much sympathize those with a religion, because during cynical times I see the so called blind side. The blunt side. The side where nobody wishes to go. But we all wake up from dreams, we always do. This bitter fact scares me to no end.
And so demons follow in suit - their sharp teeth bare as they scream false fates within my ear, and swear they'll be the death of me. Sometimes I willow in fear and others I bask in delightful carelessness. Either way I cry. The demons try always to break me down, to spin me round and make me see their being - to put me in my place, but I spt in their face. It doesn't make me victorious - it just makes me in for a hell of a night.
Past, present, future: all of which I've attempted to comprehend just to feel a sense of security, but it's never a possibility. The world hides in mysterious ways, making sure never to give away what it knows. And here I grow, within a place where I don't feel safe. Where I feel I could lose my sanity without a trace; where everybody just wants to save face. While superficial rule, where we're all cruel, where we don't care, we just fucking stare, and stare, and stare. So let me make one thing clear: I hate the world, it seers my mind and lied all this time when it told me I'd grow up fine. I'm not fine. I'mnot okay with this way. So why am I told it'll be okay? Because you don't care? She's too busy? We're all too busy. We all don't care. We're selfish, closed-minded, and affiliated with the greed of wanting to know more. We all want to do it first and have an original and make the most money. This is all just crappy. I want to say I just want to be happy. To see glory.
But we know there's always more to that story.

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