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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world
I Wanted a New Version
Last week I set my mind to defining what I want to change this year, and who I wanted to become. I had a single idea, to become murky.

It's slowly happening, but I don't feel comfortable with it yet. I am fighting it a little.

In my head, I've been telling myself that as my music grows darker, so does my soul. But that's a huge exaggeration. Music doesn't change my morality, I do.

It's not that I'm an evil person, but I do have certain behaviors that are "not okay." Listen, I control them. I don't act on any kinds of negative thoughts, but I still get these weird cravings. I've been navigating how to channel them into appropriate venues, because old tricks don't work with this new pony.

It's also dawning on me that I'll never be like everyone else. Like, I had tricked myself into thinking that we outgrow these thoughts and cravings. Nope. There are parents out there that are vanilla and happy with that. I'm not one of those people. I enjoy being that little bug that trips people out of their happy box of boring. I like being weird and I hate that other people don't like that about me. It's something that will bother me my whole life most likely. I don't like hearing that or knowing that. I wish I could make myself fit into that box mold...

The tighter my muzzle is being wrapped around me, the more I crave that darkness. I feel so sad inside from stuffing myself away. I do not want to be this small thing. I have such a wonderful personality and presence. I understand where corporate America is coming from, but stripping away our individuality is a serious danger to mental health.

I do not have the ability to express that person that I am on my off time appropriately yet. I really need a good outlet soon. I feel that sad jar within me filling up and starting to bottle. I really don't want to be so sad.