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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Mind thoughts

Submitted: September 02, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 02, 2016



Chapter one...


There are times I walk through the dark corridors of my mind, seeing doors and fearing to open them, not because of what is behind them but how far they would take me. Boundries I need, but ceaselessly push against, feeling there confinement like fingers round my throat but always aware of a terrible burning desire to tear the doors from the very hinges and unleashing an uncontrollable force that not only could, but would destroy all that stood before me, including myself but more importantly how I want people to envision me, for surely that is more important? Isn't that why we make choices, if you follow the flower to the root, to please? To become what is wanted? To become what is needed? Confining ourselves in a perpetual disillusionment. Fear of ones self is a laughable truth that confuses and saddens me. 

I write these words not knowing what will come next, fiction or fact but I hope for some kind of release, a vent if you will.
 I am a man of many questions, like a child. In my mind I never remember 'growing up' . I still think in the same voice, i still think the same way,  I still have tantrums when I don't get my own way, the only difference being, I understand why I feel the way I do, well sometimes anyway! Does age make us wise? I think not, my opinion is experience is the greatest teacher we have, age and experience come together but not every 70 year old has been through some traumas a 7 year old has. For me, with age comes understanding. Yet at 38 years old, I feel as confused as I was at 7. Strangely poking holes in my own logic.
People intrigue me, I am a people watcher and generally good at reading people. The hardest person I can read is myself, I mean fuck! I'm a mess but yet I'm close to leading a normal life. Imagine a coin spinning in the air and when it crashes and dances across the table and tales shines above heads, is it not the same coin?
 I strive to be a truthful person, and indeed am, some would say overly truthful, I can be known to use the truth as a bludgeoning tool, wreckless and vindicated, bathing in my own righteousness. People think they want the truth, but the real truth is, truth hurts. So we lie to ourselves creating false truths which in turn creates chaos and confusion. The minds an incredible thing, an eternal maze.

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