The instructor said,


Go home and write,

a page tonight

And let the page come out of you--

Then, it will be true.
But it's never that easy,

I'm a 17 year old guy but I’m two.
In a small town consumed in its own world,
blind and reckless while drama continues,
I guess you could say it confuses the people that notice.
Sadly I grew up young and naive here,
but luckily, I grew to see my own outlook.
I was recently diagnosed with a mental “disorder”,
One personality lust,
one personality love.
Given scientific name for what should really be called life.

Young athlete was told “never let anyone change your dreams.”
and instead of taken as advice, I took it as a way to live by.
Blind at how wide my opportunity could of been,
and encouraged to have proper work ethic to achieve one goal.
I remember the smiles I put on my mother's face,
and how the only conversations me and my father had were about it.
He taught me to “make the Pruitt name known”,
instead confused me into being cocky and arrogant,
an unmatured mind to hide true feelings,
which I guess is why friends were lost in high school,
goals changed, and certain ambitions lost.
The want for lust diminished.

Lust lost too late loses love.
Young loner, saddened at night with no reason.
Cold sweats, no sleep, and dark thoughts of imaginaries.
Do you accept death?
Acceptance is gained through control,
if I control it, I accept it.
Then when the garage closes, and the keys still not turned,
acceptance turns into struggle,
heart pacing heavy, mind racing,
what about my mother?
My “best friend” since 7th grade?
All my other friends?
Who do they remember me as?
Cocky, arrogant jacka**?
That's unacceptable.
I'm stronger than this.
Turn the key, open the door,
and walk in the house.
Sat down, thought about who believed in the same things as me,
thought about what I wanted out of this life,
thought about who I wanted in this life,
who I would be different without.
To most, I found out early enough,
I’m close with them again.
One, not so lucky.
She's leaving soon,
I’m weaker without her,
but she's stronger because of it.
So what else could I ask for?

Now, 17 years old, but a contradiction to who people think I am.
I want to help kids like me,
I want to be athletic,
I want to show myself the right way.
Through mistakes, struggles, and heart shed,
I am a young man with a crooked head on his shoulders,
but growing and learning every day.
And I know what I want to be remembered as,
“real”.
Because every real is different,
too many people are fake trying to make “real” from standards.
My “real” journey has been created,
it's me finding out exactly who I am,
have my own belief, have my own faith.
Music has taken me a great way.
I guess I can call my journey,
my pursuit of happiness.
But, I hope you understand,
that I really understand that,
you don't understand me.