Remember when all the world's ills could be cured by a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
When you would rake up all the leaves in the yard just so you could jump in them?
(It didn't matter that you had to rake them up again after that because you could keep jumping in them and raking them until they her crushed into little bits that could be sucked up by the lawn mower.)
When you could go out in the back-yard and lose yourself in the mud, come in a night, take a bath and fall into bed and sleep.
When anything was possible, you could pretend to be anything. Make believe was so real. The things you wanted most were a scooter or a new outfit for your doll. . .
Now no amount of peanut butter and jelly can help a rotten day or make the world any better. No matter how much you drink, it doesn't fix anything, it doesn't make the world better.
It's true that some people are momentarily blinded by the warm fuzz provided by the alcohol's retardation, and so, they continue to repeat.
But the world is still a mess when they wake up from the stupor, their lives are still in shambles.
We realize that our dreams are far away and sometimes, unattainable. Sometimes, we must swallow the bitter pill of mediocrity because there is no other choice.
No one really sees you, they're blinded by their own haze, they tell you to go to school and get a proper job. "If you can make money doing it then go ahead." Stay down here with the rest of us "Its a job, take it."
But some of us weren't born to sink into the waist high sludge of semi-non existence. It kills us little by little, makes us go mad, we know this is not what we're meant for.
Weekdays of nine to five and evenings spent in an alcohol induced stupor.
We don't know how to rise, we try and are blocked at every turn, our failures climb into our heads and shout so loudly we want to run but running doesn't work because the noise is from our own minds.
Living life like the rest kills our souls but those around us do not see it or understand what its like.
They stay content "As long as I have money, a roof over my head, and get to do whatever the f*ck I want, life is good." Adults living with the mindset of a child.
The dreamers who want more are called crazy, looked down on, suppressed by the suffocating scorn of the masses. Dreaming hurts, dreaming kills, caring, holding up those around us...
It all climbs into our minds, tearing at the insides of our skulls, and here we sit.
