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my life of doom

I know nothing about myself. My life is a weird twisted rollercoaster that ends and starts every day.
Looking back at my life I see my childhood as a figment of a psychopath’s imagination. I am a loner and
usually stay to myself a lot. And when I do talk to someone I feel as if it isn’t me talking, just one of my
many faces that I slap on and off daily. One thing I do that in 30 years I can only hope to stop doing is
bottling up my fears and emotions and caging them deep beneath my soul, As if in a buried chest never
to be opened. On the outside I’m a normal person but deep down inside I feel as if there is a monster
Un- caged, loose and wreaking havoc on my emotional state. In 30 years I hope that somewhere along
the line I can let go of those fears. That I find someone who is willing to listen and not run from me
is only but one of my hopes. This may sound weird and not really make any sense at all and probably
won’t. But by the end of this speech I hope that you might gain anything even if it is only a glimpse of
what I am.

What I hope to be is a completely different story. I don’t want to be the oddball, I don’t want to
be the one who hides his fears and never shows true emotion. I only hope that maybe one day I’ll find
someone just like me. If it is at all possible I’ll find my reasoning. I want by the time I am 30 years old to
have found a reason to wake up in the morning. I wish to find a passion, something I can actually say I
am good at. Something that can make up for all the sorrow I carry around. Even though I may not have a
reason for my sadness I can still tell you that my sorrow and sadness feel like a dark cloud hanging above
a measly ant that has given up and is waiting for the lighting to strike him down.

This is now verging on the realm of the insane. I am not insane yet I make myself feel like I am. I
feel as though when I think about something I think twice once my brain and once another’s. I don’t
know whose it is. I hear voices in my head telling me things that I should do. That voice sounding
nothing like me is me but what part of me. In 30 years maybe even 40 or 50 I hope to answer those
questions. That is if I’m still on this earth. I hope that by the time I am 45 or 50 years old I will at least
have found something to live for. My life is not a weird twisted rollercoaster. It is a straight path to my
grave twisted and bent widened and shortened by my own doing.





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