I live in a world where i am consistently and constantly misunderstood. i create characters and places to the fill the void of someone who can understand who and what i am, who takes in everything i say and who can say in an instant, i get it.

i feel out of character around my family and sometimes even around my friends, flipping over another facet to myself so that i become the filler to a void in someone i love.

eh i am myself, but you know my mom needs her daughter, my aunt wants her neice, in a way i fill a need in people who sometimes dont derserve it and i wonder if i do it so that i am not alone, or if i do it as a way to atone for who i became for awhile or even if i do so that i have an idenity, so that when i feel like im fading that i can fall into a role and know that somewhere i still have a place.

i never really realized how much it takes out of me until i go into my room and close the door, escaping into my haven , where my words fly off the paper and turn into something nothing more than fiction yet someting more real than anything i have seen or been before.

i close my eyes and suddenly i have my best friend back, my lover and so much more, where i am wholely myself in a place than can understand.

yet, still sometimes, that isnt enough, because i know when i open my door, that wonderous magical world will still be nothing more than fiction.

We all have our own special little place.
Where we can escape, hiding there with no-face.
Sometimes wanting to disapere without a trace.
Then a new day starts, in our same old pace.


Nice write!!!

wow..brings me back to the place when i was a teenager...

Is it fiction if it inspires and affects real lives?

its always fiction, even when it inspires truth

inspired fiction

wow nicely written. brings me back to my teenage years.