strangling the life out of life.

Wrestling with the idea that deviation from the normal is good but what good is deviation when the society does not accept it instead you get shoved into bitterness and self contempt. My thoughts maybe clear but my words are produced in a clumsy disharmony and in monotonous repetition of subjects that continue to bother. Experience has taught me that running away is of no good cos when u run what u find at the end of the tunnel is seldom light and plus what am I running from and what am I running to?
People think they have me figured out…how is that when I myself am half perceived. Some think my unpredictability is predictable and some think its insane and ive taken the form of a shape shifter. I am a shape shifter I am shaped by the opinions of every single person; no two peoples being the same. We like things that seem ordained with the laws of nature and our own desires to an extent and anything that defies that is abnormal. I don’t think others could pacify me in times of need neither can I pacify anyone in their time of need because we all suffer from residues of past apprehensions.
In this normality or abnormality however one sees it what keeps me going and grounded are memories. Memories of a happy time, memories of pain and longing, memories of fear that lurked within for years and that defines my life and how well it is lived without any boundaries of judgments.