If I were to write down everything I feel right now, everything I've ever felt, it would take up a thousand pages, maybe more. A thousand pages of scribbled words, mismatched thoughts, devil's dreams. Just everything that nobody can be bothered to care about. Things a fifteen year old boy shouldn't have to think about. Things that men your father's age would never have ever thought about. What goes through my mind, is something that would get me in a lot of shit if anyone ever found out.
You see, I think about death. I think about the opposite side of the fence. The things that people fear, the opression, the sadness, the pain, that's what I delight in. The things that you see in nightmares, the things you feel when you're alone, feelings that you're afraid and mortified to admit, that's what I embrace. I might be a little psychotic, but maybe, I'm the only one who's sane. You never really know do you?
The most recent facination of mine happens to be suicide. The fabulous mystery that goes along with the thoughts, the actions, the methods, it's the most facinating thing to me. I love dwelling into the brains of the men, the women, the boys, the people that have these things going on inside themselves, never being released until the day, the moment, the very second, that everything inside them snaps. I know it's a morbid obsession, but it's what I think like now, mostly because, I'm that way myself.
You see, my name's Skylar, and I'm suicidal. Actually I'm a manic-depressant with a tendancy to have a split personality. I've lived in the same shithole town, with the same shithole parents, since the day I was born. The only difference, I've gotten ignored more the older I've gotten. And the older I've gotten, the more I've realized and figured out how to fend for myself. You'd most likely ask why I have to fend for myself when I have two parents that are around, or other family near by I could depend on, and my answer for that is I don't want the sympathy people feel like they have to dish out to people like me who appear to have nothing, when really we have everything. We have the only thing that matters. We have ourselves.
But, on days when I'm towards the happier side of my depressive demeanor, I hope and hold out on finding love. Which, if anybody found out about my orientation, they'd beat me till I was broken and bleeding into a puddle on the sidewalk. As you wouldn't know, I'm gay. And where I come from, being homosexual is almost as bad as murdering a priest in the town square. It's like the posession of the thoughts of needing your own sex instead of the opposite, is the biggest sin you can have. And I'm sick of feeling like I have to hide, when I have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing that can allow for that kind of cruelty to happen. Nothing to make me deserve any of this. Nothing.
As I move out onto my roof, I catch a glimpse of the guy who's stolen my heart for years now, the guy that it hurts to watch walk by and know you can't do anything to have him, hold him, call him yours. The guy that makes it impossible for you to be happy when he's always parading around, all high, mighty and perfect. The worst part, is he always parades around looking like he could never be any happier then he is at that moment. That to me is what hurts the most. And now, as I sit here and watch him, standing on the corner with his girlfriend, I wonder why I had to be put here on the Earth, when the only thing that would ever happen to me, is to get tortured and laughed at. I really hate this shit. And now it's getting rubbed in my face.
Resting on my back, in the cool, crisp breeze of this wonderful June night, I listen to the bits of conversation I'm hearing. Sounds like an intense argument's going on somewhere close. Then, as I pay closer attention to the bodiless voices, it starts to come to me, the faces behind the voices. So I bolt straight up, and look across the road at the boy I love, and his girlfriend, slapping him across the face and storming off. My mouth must have dropped 3 storey's to the ground, because it took me forever to feel my lips touch each other again. I could not believe what I was seeing. Kyle, the guy who had taken my heart, he was single! He was motherfucking, righteous to God, SINGLE! Oh my god!
I'm starting to think, that my life as I knew it, was finally turning around.