It's a balancing act and I lose my footing at times. Where does this tightrope end? You all tell me to keep going but either my destination is too far or it just isn't there. I wanna fall and just crash. I want to give up and everyone tells me to keep going to keep moving. That I'm creative, funny, and cute. When all those things derive from my speculation upon what has made me this way. I'm walking parody of life. A boy overmedicated due to a fraction of 2/5 Schizophrenia and 3/5 suicidal, whose only escape was a mental disorder from making up a fantasy world where I could be friends with monsters and king of the world of strange. As a child I was ridiculed and burned at both ends be it home or school. As a teenager I learned to hide it and mold myself and laugh at it all. I just keep on laughing like it's a disorder. LIke i was forced to kill my friends and my family and forced to laugh while I'm doing it and JUST CANT STOP LAUGHING to the point in which I dont even know who the fuck I am. Now at 20 years old I'm told to grow up and leave my escape behind when it's the only thing that makes me happy and now I'm forced to find new resources to get out of my mind be it alcohol, drugs, or sex because THOSE are what GROWN UPS DO..... Armed with an arsenal of masks to ake sure you like me, a shard of mirror to make sure I'm attractive to you, and gun to have the longest conversations with, spin the barrel and take a shot. Because that's what grown ups do. Now tell me to smile. Tell me to laugh. Because I look amazing when I smile. Who cares if I want to..who cares if it's real. As long as I don't show my bullet holes than I'm not dead. Because that's what grown ups do...