Wrapped in Plastic

That’s kind of what happens when you live the life others say you ought to, you get wrapped up more and more. And you get to a point where’s it’s a choice between suffocation and breaking free. I harp about this more than I’d like… see, there’s a point where the focus stopped being about “not” living the way I’m ‘supposed to’ and it shifted to just living, being me.

The thing is, I look around and see people that barely have the nerve to enter a stage of going against and destroying, let alone growing beyond that. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I wrote a little about Pseudo Morality. The fake morals I talk about, taking that first step and shaking shit up to see what holds up and what falls apart, is far from unfamiliar territory to me, and I get tired of what sometimes seems like the same old stuff.

And what I mean by that isn’t me saying “same shit, different day, so it’s nothing to even pay attention to”. No, what I’m saying is that I get tired of seeing people who are just to weak to take one tiny little step towards a new understanding… of themselves, of the world. They’re to wrapped up in plastic, and they’re suffocating. You pull the metaphorical knife out, they might get scared and you end up alienating them. Or empathize with them to much and end up not doing anything while they struggle to live a dead or dieing life.

A random stream of thought…

(Written October 7th, 2011)


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