ndslotesse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Veratis Dear Diary, There's always a conflict going on within myself, in my being. A strange and melodramatic battle between wanting to be good and having the motivation against the inner struggle of the knowledge that life isn't all peaches and cream. I'm going to try to be sententious even though it's inevitable that I'll drift off the purpose of this entry. Forgive me. It's like a pretentious cause to make people realize that I'm not made of bricks, and that I'm not as cold-hearted as I deem myself to be. Maybe it's a front that I use, a wall if you will, to make sure that no would would be able to penetrate my most vulnerable and virgin thoughts. This onerous struggles seem like omens of obstinate pain. A hedge. It's what I'm constantly doing, I'm always running away from things that could make my heart swell to the size of a hot-air ballon. Maybe this entire entry has been some wacky hyperbole, to make myself seem more deranged and demented then I really am. Because it seems that lately I've kept myself distant and so close to everyone that I'm so flustered about what to write. As if there's this innner trauma that I'm being forced to cope with, when there really isn't. It's almost amazing how much I exaggerate things and even more bogus how I choose not to believe I do this often or at all (as a matter a fact). I have already stated how much I loathe ever being another faded smile in the crowd, and how wrong it would be to be a carbon copy of someone else. How depressing it would be to be 'normal'. And the sad and strange veratis (latin for truth) is that I'm as normal as they come. I'm not as special and crazy as I pretend to be. I'm not any closer to my dreams and by the sick way I play at it, makes it almost seem believable. Veratis. Everyone feels the exact same way I do, everyone's gone through what I've gone through. I just choose to see it in a different light. While everyone's looking at in black and white, I'm seeing an assortment of colors (almost a rainbow). My views are constantly changing because I'm seeing different color perpetually. My whole life seems to be a hyperbole. As if I planned it out that way, so I could have some stupid derranged 'desire' of being special. I am like everyone else. (That hurts...like you would not believe, no wait! yes you can because I'm not special, and everyone's gone through what I've experienced. Yes.) Veratis. With care 2:03 a.m. - 2002-06-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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