Just South Of Knowing Why

I act differently from everyone else. I always have done so. Up until I was about 15, I practically lived inside my own head, spinning an elaborate fantasy life, where I reigned. I had power, intelligence, confidence, and the ability to touch people in this world. I shined, and people loved me. I overcame the dark, and showed the people how I was beautiful inside. But like all stories, this fantasy life had to end. So now I find other outlets for my imagination. I see beauty in insignificant things. I create clothing. I teach myself guitar. I do graphics design. And I write. Poems. Short Stories. Descriptions. Or about my emotions. And whilst I pour my soul out into a creation, I feel completely free. I am floating.