I'm falling apart.

I'm bursting at the seams.

Everything is white.

There is no more brilliance anymore;

I'm a sad impression of what I used to be.

I can't stop the tears, I can't see straight anymore.

A ghost of my past has once again come for my life; come for everything that gives me the drive to get out of my bed in the morning.

Everything has deteriorated inside of me;

I've gone blind.

It's as if my world was dipped in black;

the lights that led me and helped me along the way are being torn away from me.

Then comes the darkness and all the fears that were left behind.

I want to be inspired.

What is inspiration to you?

To me it is the act of being overcome with an urge to throw yourself into the world and give it your best. 

I miss that feeling. I haven't had it in so long, and I want it back. I want to see the beauty that I saw when I was a kid in every small thing again. I want to be able to sit on the grass, feel the sun on my face, smell the dandelions, and just enjoy my life again. It is things like this that inspire me. I feel like I'm on a different planet, in a different galaxy when I do. 

It is as if I am in my own world and perfectly content to simply be.

 

Just to simply float along, in my own bubble of ecstacy, touched by nothing.

I want to be able to enter a room that has white walls, and rather than become depressed at the simplicity of it, I want to see it as a canvas. A canvas where I can throw my emotions at it and turn it into something beautiful. I feel as if I've become empty and have lost my worldliness. 

I suppose I feel this way since I've turned into my own definition of average.

I've always wanted to be extraordinary. I was for a while, and I miss it. I used to not care, I used to bounce along in my own world. I used to see something I enjoyed, whipped out a piece of paper, and drew my version of my emotions. 

I would hear a song, smile, and start to sing along, no matter where I was. 

I was simply weird. 

I was interesting.

I guess I'm just at one of those forks in the road that we call life. 

Which to choose, the one that leads to a superficial world in my head, or the one where I devote myself to conformity?

I hope I will get lucky and another will appear.

"Jakob, I'm scared."

I stood by the stairs, my eyes wide with shock.

"Jakob, I don't feel like it anymore. I can't even eat this. Every time I look at food I just see fat, fat, and more fat. I will get fat I just know it. I guess I just have low self-esteem. Why can't a guy ever roll around my way that I actually like? I think I'm just scared of being hurt. I actually want someone to love me in my life.

Jakob, I'm scared."

In front of me sat one of the most beautiful girls that I know, blowing away every assumption I had about her.

I couldn't form words fast enough to comfort her, to help her calm down.

She slid down the stairs one by one.

I saw the inside of this exquisite girl, and I was absolutely terrified.

She was scared. Scared of her future. Scared of herself. I wanted to pick her up and just hold her until it all disappeared. I felt absolutely hopeless as this girl deteriorated in front of me.

I suppose we all have them. Those tiny thoughts that magnify themselves every time we look in a mirror. I heard people tell me that even the most confident people have periods of self doubt.

This made a lot of things sink in for me.

I don't know if I like them.

I'm scared too.

The Glory Days

"A phrase often used to describe the days one is in Highschool." she droned on while sitting on her couch hosting her petty little talk show.

"These are my glory days? These are the best days of my life? You mean it becomes harder?"he asked himself.

He turned off the TV and wandered to his room pondering the "Glory" that his world contains. On his bed, he grabbed his iPod and hit play. The sweet melody of Fix You by Coldplay drifted into his ears as he rethought his world.

"My world isn't one full of glory." he finally decided.

"Glory days are for those that live without consequences. For those that can run free and lighthearted. It is not for those that deal with situations above their maturity. It is not for those that are forced to grow up faster than nature intended."

Memories sporadically washed through his brain, each new wave filling him with depression. As he lay on his bed curled into a ball wrestling with tears, he decided he didn't want to be grown up anymore.

"I want to be able to live in a world where the troubles of grown ups don't concern me."

This would be his new motto; his new resolve.
He wandered to the window and swore this to the moon hanging in the sky.

It struck him quick and painless. It was childish of him to do this. This was not the life for someone like him; glory was for those that have nothing to lose.

He turned slowly and wandered back to his bed, picking up a studyguide that needed to be completed.

A single tear rolled down his face, which he wiped away along with his freedom, his childhood, and set his mind to that of an adult.
He was not a child anymore, he thought this is how the world works.
The desire to be completely free and normal lingered in his mind, but it was always enclosed by worries of his suicidal friends, of his future, of his fear of being hurt emotionally.
He hoped that one day he could break free of his worries and fears and just enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed.
Sighing, he picked up his chemistry book and flipped through the pages his mind empty and his soul hollow.