These beings are so not me

Folder: 
2014

Tell me is there anyone out there, can you hear my thoughts, do you know what this feels like? You look so real to me, you look like you can handle this. Make me feel alive, make me feel what it feels to be alive. Get me out of my head, I´m so alone here, with these beings around me that don´t speak my language.

I don´t know love, I don´t know hate, I can´t live within the symbols. There is light and there is dark, but they all become grey. They don´t matter and my life is a charade, one that I play with constant fear. Too scared to create my own new world where others can come play. Too scared and too ignorant to know if you´re playing too.

My life is not me, I am something else, I am something unknown. I cannot handle connections, they are all a burden, they are all reminders of my loneliness. They remind me that there is nobody like me around, that I have to drift alone. There are no days or nights, just a feeling that something is not as it should be. There is a whole world to see and feel, but the other´s comments about it are so trivial it renders me speechless. The thought that they could care about the things they say and do, of who said what and what they did today. It makes me shiver, because they are not me and can never be me, they are others.  

 I tried you know? I tried opening up, I tried it, but they couldn´t handle it. They couldn´t feel it. They didn´t see it, the vastness, the complexity, the absurdity of experiences. They didn´t see the eternity I see, they didn´t want to know of the agony of not understanding. They didn´t see the thousands of living things coming into existence and leaving existence, all the ants and flies, all the leaves and trees. They didn´t see how much they mean to me, that this is a life within a life of thousands of lives.

What they saw was my charade having a problem. This is not a problem, this is me, this is my being, my unknown, my only way to exist. I don´t know a way out, I tried you know, but I can´t find the way out there, to others. They all want something, they´re all so needy, expecting. I can´t give anything else but this face and my good intentions.  

Do you speak my language? Do you understand what this is? Are you there? I seek belonging, but belonging is for other beings, my belonging is to not belong, to forever observe, my being is not to be.

My birth was so I could die, but before I die, I need to know if you´re there.  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

PLIIIZ Comment NICE, LOLL!! -.- I don´t even know..

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schmuckjones's picture

I enjoyed reading this...

Well kind of... I enjoy that your willing to reach out for answers and write them down.  But it pains me to see how misunderstood you feel.  Things that make sense to you, might not make sense others.  Then miscommunication ensues and where do you go from there?  I have an infatuation for the phrase "I'm unique, just like everyone else".  An oxymoron of course.  I know loneliness and the feeling of alienation quite well.  "I don't even know."  You say.  Ah, but you do!  I see a soul that yearns for a feeling of acceptence, with lots of questions.  There are no stupid questions, the only stupid question is the one never asked.  I see this is an older post and perhaps you have moved on to other things.  Perhaps these words will fall on deaf ears, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.  I hope you find the acceptence you are searching for and a belated welcome to PostPoems!  You should create a world here, you could create a world here.  Will you create a world here?