pburgmenace's blog: "How well do you kinow someone?"

Everyone wants to know who they are. To their friends, to their loved ones, to their enemies, and to total strangers. Well who am I? Where to begin? I am a shadow on a crowded sidewalk, that everyone walks on yet noone notices I'm even there. I am someone who wants to love, yet am scared of love cause I associate love with pain. I have caused pain, I have felt pain, and at times I welcome pain, like an old friend I haven't seen in years. Not the "I have a cut" pain, but the kind of pain that starts in your heart and ends in your soul. The kind of pain that makes it hard to smile.I want to be free, free from the black haze I live in.I want to get excited about sunshine, rain on a tin roof or the sound of a child's laughter., BUT I CAN'T ! This darkness is my home. Everyone knows the saying about the rose that grew from concrete, how something beautiful and fragile can grow from the hardest surroundings, well thats not me, I'm more of the ivy that grew from concrete. I poison everyone that comes around me until eventually noone will come near me. I want friends, yet I am lonely in a crowded room. I would still rather be there lonely, than by myself. Atleast then their echo's can drown out my own inner demons that are always raging war in my head. I want confidence. I put on a fascade of confidence but I'm not. I'm glass, I could break at any moment. I have cracked on numerous occasions. Do you know what its like to just wish it would all end? To wish you had the courage to take that one last step, that one hairpin squeeze of the trigger, or that one razor fine pull, and push across your wrist, then you can finally be at peace with your loved ones and lost friends, but you can't cause you are to big of a coward? You may say thats the easy way. I say BULLSHIT! It's hard. That or maybe i have something in my heart that says "Deal with your shit like a man" but how can that be? My heart is stitches, staples, and scars, a void, an empty cavity where a once beating, beautiful muscle used to live. And what do i know about being a man? What I've seen on t.v., what i learned in my neighborhood, what i learned in prison? None of that is being a man. I don't feel like a man. Most of the time I feel more like a child. A lost, lonely child who just wants to feel loved in a loving home. But wait..................where is home? Mom's isnt home. Home shouldnt be walking on egg shells, yelling, screaming, smacking, being told "your gonna be a worthless p.o.s. just like your........" that brings us to dad. Dad's isn't home. Is it? Home can't be a barroom, a camper, a buddies living room, or wherever dad passes out at on one of my weekend visits that only come once every 3-4 years. Home is grandma's. Was grandma's, but grandma is gone now, so my home is this 8 x 10 cell that I have grown so accustomed to. It's my fault. I put myself here, but why? I think I'm so used to failure, sadness, struggle, hatred, and doubt that I don't know how to handle or am scared of success, joy, achievement, love and faith. That's who I am! But if you bluntly ask me who I am, I'll say "I'M NOONE" So before you judge someone MAKE SURE YOU KNOW THE REAL THEM!!