So the question begs: what can I reveal?
How is it my emotions bubble over at the most inopportune of times even though I insist I have no emotions? Why am i angry at the world? Is the world angry at me? Thats another question that beckons an answer, but will never be fully revealed. Am I a repressed genius bound by the grounds of a society of panic. I could never fully relinquish my literate skills upon an unsuspecting world without the fear of backlash to which I put my fingers up and move swiftly onwards?
Escape routes to which one posseses can help,of course,but they will never fully exorcize the demons of unstability that has taken our very souls. Drugs can help washing away the stress we feel, but its all one big placebo.
A mind of mine, so self conscious, so hating that it hides behind an alternate personality, another psyche to which the world applauds. A modern day Jeckyll and Hyde fuelled by the insanity of drink to which I am now notoriously known. A wry smile slapped on a young mans face, a face of war, a face of fear, a face of hate.
17 with an alcoholics thirst, sadly struck by the curse of modern society.
A sceptic might believe I am simply rambling on about anything and everything like a mad man. I'm not. Read my words and take into account my mindstate. These words are not written to go in one ear and out the other. They are written to reflect the true sides of me.
Cocky,sexist a real jack the lad. It's all one big sham. I'm shy truthfully. A mask of obscurity.
Anger always bubbling below the surface. Look in my eyes close enough and you can see it. Heart of fire, soul of ice. Or is it heart of ice, soul of fire?
Show some anger, show some heart. Show them you're still here and not going to fade away. Fuck the world scream some people. Not me. Rule the worlds more like it. Taste it's cocktails, it's fruits, it's women.
Fuck.