Sometimes I just feel like ripping myself apart. Turning myself inside-out, to understand why I am the I am. To understand why I feel the way I feel, because I know I’m the only person that cares to figure it out. I’m the only one that takes the time to see whats inside of me. I’ll die knowing the only person who really knew me,was me. To show a piece of my soul for any human to see would be worthless it would just be thrown away like Thursdays trash. The depth of a person is no longer relevant in this modern life. The rich have more important places to be and things to see, and the poor well they’re not looking for souls, the poor they’re digging around trash hoping for gold. Distractions of this artificial world are leading us to lose sight of our selves. No longer are we exploring into the further,further into our selves,into lovers,into our world. I have to rip myself apart to keep me grounded. I’ve spent all these years thinking I was the one detached from everyone else. Now I’m beginning to realize maybe I’m the only one that stayed intact.