My Body is a Cage.

Though those of you who are my friends know I have been listening to "My Body is a Cage" a mellow a some what sad song. I cannot describe how much this song is about me.

I am a person who longs to be free of my body in every sense of the word. I know this is frightening, and though it's something that could get me put in a hospital for a good long time. I can't keep walking around like I feel happy. Because even when I am "Happy" there is always this weight. A pressure on my heart, my soul. I can't describe it beyond, I thought I would do better than this.

I want to fall apart, and rage against myself. I want to explode outward. But the cage I feel I'm trapped in makes me want to crawl into a hole and never see the sun again. I want to wither.

But I keep myself going. For other people. Not ever for myself. I know people expect me to be there for them, to help them through whatever shit-show they're going through. So I do.

I think this is why I daydream so much, that I pull myself away so completely. Even as I make and maintain friendships that I could do without. I feel the need to keep people happy, at my own expense.

I want to rip these friendships down, tearing them apart at the seams and walk away free of all the connections. I want to be alone. I want to be able to rip something apart so completely that it can never be put back together. I want to pull my anger and depression to myself like a bitter, sour-smelling blanket.

I want destruction to surround me so that I will never be bothered again. So everyone will know that I am this broken, terror of a human being. Someone who likes to be cruel. To manipulate people. Who stores rage up as  easily as shelving a book.

But others seem to see what they want. A happy semi-adult with no real future. Not knowing where she is going. A failure.

But I know my mind holds the key to whatever is going to happen for me. Daydreaming has brought me nothing but trouble. My shitty GPA being an example. My inability to write a paper that gets me a decent grade. I want to rage and punch and scream. But I won't.

I'll bitch and moan. And do what is expected of me while escaping into the world of fantasy. Be it in my head or in a book or in a comic or movie. I want my life to be that. So  much more with the wondrous things. But I am stuck here.

In a body...

that feels like a rusty, broken cage. My mind that wants to expand into whatever to wherever it wants. But is stuck here. Rotting away attempting to live up to the expectations of people I please for some masochistic reason.

I want to wake up one day, and not be me. I want to wake up where I can be something I am proud of. Someone can love for more then just a "friend when it's convenient." Which is what most of my friendships seem to be.

My body is a cage.