I'm A Stranger In Paradise | I close my eyes and I try to imagine a place where I dont have to be anyone but me. It works for a little while as the skyscrapers start to form and the roses begin to bloom upside down from the sky. But as hard as I try, the place always seems to vanish. It goes away in a smoke of blue dust, and Im left sitting in an empty peach covered room filled with the sound of silence. I cant help but think that this place is the one thing that describes me. Am I really empty? Am I really this bright, unhappy colored room with no content inside its walls? Does nothing else really exist inside of me, that I can prove to be real? The only thing that doesnt vanish is this place, this... jail cell of a place that holds me in its arms. I wonder how I'll ever be able to find a way out. "If you just smile and tell yourself to be happy, you'll be happy", they said. But it doesn't work like that, otherwise, the rose filled skies and the tall buildings would still be here. And the smiling faces of everyone ive ever loved, would still be here. And the meaning behind my very existence, would still be here. I wish it was here, I wish I could create a door so small in this room, that i'd have to dislocate my heart from my chest and allow it to squeeze through and escape. Then it would'nt have to carry the burden of my lifelessness on it's back. It wouldnt have to worry about being dysfunctional, or stress about why my feelings didnt work like everyone elses. It could run free, and latch onto a form of innocence.. Something pure, something solid. And it could be happy, just as it deserves to be. A happy heart, just like in the movies.

I close my eyes and I try to imagine a place where I dont have to be anyone but me. It works for a little while as the skyscrapers start to form and the roses begin to bloom upside down from the sky. But as hard as I try, the place always seems to vanish. It goes away in a smoke of blue dust, and Im left sitting in an empty peach covered room filled with the sound of silence. I cant help but think that this place is the one thing that describes me. Am I really empty? Am I really this bright, unhappy colored room with no content inside its walls? Does nothing else really exist inside of me, that I can prove to be real? The only thing that doesnt vanish is this place, this… jail cell of a place that holds me in its arms. I wonder how I’ll ever be able to find a way out. “If you just smile and tell yourself to be happy, you’ll be happy”, they said. But it doesn’t work like that, otherwise, the rose filled skies and the tall buildings would still be here. And the smiling faces of everyone ive ever loved, would still be here. And the meaning behind my very existence, would still be here. I wish it was here, I wish I could create a door so small in this room, that i’d have to dislocate my heart from my chest and allow it to squeeze through and escape. Then it would’nt have to carry the burden of my lifelessness on it’s back. It wouldnt have to worry about being dysfunctional, or stress about why my feelings didnt work like everyone elses. It could run free, and latch onto a form of innocence.. Something pure, something solid. And it could be happy, just as it deserves to be. A happy heart, just like in the movies.

~S.A.J.

I never reblog, but this is worth it. Stunning. Effortlessly stunning. Absolutely perfect.