I need to shave.
Not because my youthful beard grows more prickly by the day; I just need to shave.
I want to remove the growth I gain with each tormenting day and shave off the dead skin that the growth seemingly hides.
As if a paid promise to fly in the sky is enough to keep me chained
I remember a day of youth
My mother gave me five dollars
Just enough to buy that game I always wanted
With the money came a promise
"When we get to the store, you can buy that game."
Upon arrival I was struck with shock when I realized I lost that piece of trading paper. I searched and searched but it never turned up. The entire way home I searched and finally once I walked into my house, there it was... In my back pocket. No matter how much I begged over the course of the year, we never returned to buy that game. I wasn't allowed because I missed my opportunity.
I don't care about where we go or what we do. All I know is every moment feels, eh... Slightly off. Its like a your favorite ride at the amusement park gets closed for repairs the day you get there. You can ride every other ride, some fun and some scary, but they are not quite the same ride. You start to miss the feeling you would get as the ride would speed up at that special point to make it just right, and slow down before it became too much to bare. Why else would it be your favorite ride?
Life is an ever changing ride. One you slowly carve out of stone with each day, not knowing where your next corner or dip will be.
I still find comfort in my car. As it grows older and more in need of costly repairs I still drive knowing I'm safe. There is nothing this car can do that would surprise me because I know it too well, and it knows me. It times its breakdowns almost perfectly and works perfectly when such need be. There is a different feel to it though. Like a group of people invaded my car and want a ride every moment. Its not quite the same ride anymore, the weight ratio is slightly off. Although its a very minor change, its a change I feel in every corner and every straight. I don't like it.
Something so minor has thrown off my harmonic balance in life. It presses with expectations and guilt, sometimes forceful pain. It tests who I am without knowing I am still locked up. It lives with ignorance of everything but itself and feeds off strength. Its the world. Or what some call the world. Constantly spinning so fast it might throw you off its surface, but so slow that you still stay perfectly grounded.
I dream of stars. Someday owning them. Its a selfish hatred my heart has held since I was young. That everyone was wrong about me. That not one person has yet to place their finger on me as if to say, 'I have you figured out.'
I tore my face off and made it into a mask. I would rather my face be bare to others. Be seemingly real yet completely fake. Except for two people I know.. Two very important people who will never leave my heart. I'm still here. I just dont know where here is because I'm lost in the stars...
