furrycat

I feel like life is slipping away. People are slipping away. I need to face facts and stop dreaming, stop floating around. How many times have I told myself that by now? What feels so okay in it's very second can be everything but okay. This is not a movie, this is real. I am real. You are real. It's such a waste to fake it. I'm still in the middle at this point, right in the middle. I have the keys back and my hands on the next doorknob. What shall I do? What would you do? You people that talk so much and think so little. I hate you. No, I love you. You make me see the contrasts. You make me feel good about myself, almost. Yet you're the ones that judge the most. Sometimes I think it's easier for you, to breathe, to be. I know I'm probably wrong though. It's all about relativity. Gradations. I'm not your dog. Don't expect me to catch your sticks.