somethingpancake
Newbie
- MBTI
- INFJ
I'm starting to get a bit back into writing and came up with this a few days ago. It's loosely based on myself and the way I feel at times. Writing this surprisingly turned out to be great therapy! I'll be doing this way more now. Anyways, let me know what you guys think!
-------------------------------------------------------------
The Genesis of I: Part One
The room is dimly lit, dry, and cool, eradiating a sense of peace undetectable beyond these walls. Here, time is inexistent and pain is comfortably processed.
Welcome to my womb.
They call me an introverted weirdo, an abnormality of society lost in the land of the abstract. They believe me to be lost; a stereotypical fool dejectedly blinded by a rebellious design of contrasting intellection. Everyone is different, but my different is too different.
It’s currently 10:03 AM. The air is electric as unforeseen showers envelop the metropolis. I notice men, women and children scattered across the streets below rushing, shoving, and shouting as their minds pulsate to the drum of ticking watches and beeping phones. These people have responsibilities, although unknowingly not to themselves, but to a common paradoxical perception hailed by modern thought:
“Just be yourself and you’ll fit right in.”
Out there, it’s the jungle of narrow deliberation, for narrow deliberation is the key to safe thinking, and safe thinking marks the dividing line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior.
Welcome to the real world; a world I am about to join.
Today
Today, everything is going to change. Today, I will finally conform. Today, I shall break out of this reclusive womb and emerge to the polluted surface of the real world as the almost living and barely breathing definition of true “self-destruction”. I have regrettably spent the last half-decade of my existence consumed by fierce introspection, furiously waging psychological warfare against the parasitical past, present and future visions slithering away within the depths of my consciousness, but today, this war will end.
It’s now 10:04 AM.
A new thought barbarously introduces itself, stealing center stage without any consideration for the other deserving works of my mind patiently waiting in line.
“I’m such a loser.”
Out of all the thoughts to hit the spotlight, this one has to be the least refreshing. Such an outburst of negative reflection may raise a red flag in your mind, but to me, it’s a morning ritual. Apply, loathe, and repeat.
It’s now 10:05 AM.
I must evade the warmth of this bed and crawl out into the cold at once. I must, just as everyone else, rush, shove and shout my presence in the streets below, for the longer I lay still and thinking, the more thoughtless initiative is spilled down the drain. The only question is: who shall I be? If the essence of a personality dictates where one goes and what one does, then I think it’s safe to assume this riddle must be solved before any conclusive action is taken…or any bed is left abandoned.
End: Part One
-------------------------------------------------------------
The Genesis of I: Part One
The room is dimly lit, dry, and cool, eradiating a sense of peace undetectable beyond these walls. Here, time is inexistent and pain is comfortably processed.
Welcome to my womb.
They call me an introverted weirdo, an abnormality of society lost in the land of the abstract. They believe me to be lost; a stereotypical fool dejectedly blinded by a rebellious design of contrasting intellection. Everyone is different, but my different is too different.
It’s currently 10:03 AM. The air is electric as unforeseen showers envelop the metropolis. I notice men, women and children scattered across the streets below rushing, shoving, and shouting as their minds pulsate to the drum of ticking watches and beeping phones. These people have responsibilities, although unknowingly not to themselves, but to a common paradoxical perception hailed by modern thought:
“Just be yourself and you’ll fit right in.”
Out there, it’s the jungle of narrow deliberation, for narrow deliberation is the key to safe thinking, and safe thinking marks the dividing line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior.
Welcome to the real world; a world I am about to join.
Today
Today, everything is going to change. Today, I will finally conform. Today, I shall break out of this reclusive womb and emerge to the polluted surface of the real world as the almost living and barely breathing definition of true “self-destruction”. I have regrettably spent the last half-decade of my existence consumed by fierce introspection, furiously waging psychological warfare against the parasitical past, present and future visions slithering away within the depths of my consciousness, but today, this war will end.
It’s now 10:04 AM.
A new thought barbarously introduces itself, stealing center stage without any consideration for the other deserving works of my mind patiently waiting in line.
“I’m such a loser.”
Out of all the thoughts to hit the spotlight, this one has to be the least refreshing. Such an outburst of negative reflection may raise a red flag in your mind, but to me, it’s a morning ritual. Apply, loathe, and repeat.
It’s now 10:05 AM.
I must evade the warmth of this bed and crawl out into the cold at once. I must, just as everyone else, rush, shove and shout my presence in the streets below, for the longer I lay still and thinking, the more thoughtless initiative is spilled down the drain. The only question is: who shall I be? If the essence of a personality dictates where one goes and what one does, then I think it’s safe to assume this riddle must be solved before any conclusive action is taken…or any bed is left abandoned.
End: Part One