The real world...I'm back, back to what though.  A life the feels more like a dream then my dreams really.  A place where honor once stood, but well before my time, now all that is left of it is its ruins.
I'm back alright, back to my eternal hell...but i have myself to blame for that really.  Enough talk though, no real need to burn at myself...the sun light is doing a good job of that already on my eyes.

I stand, I move.  Bathroom, nude, shower.  Here i was, thinking that the sun was burning at me, it held nothing on the hot water on my back, burning at the scars hidden under my flesh, causing me to fight back at crying out at first. But soon, the pain is gone, and the madness comes.  A song plays in my head, as the water beads on my face and fall away from me, taking with it my filth.

The beat is heavy, my eyes play to it, and along with my madness as well.  the tiles move out at me like bars on a stereo, how they rise and fall, the effect of each, causing me to note how far my madness has come, as it plays in my mind.  no words yet, no need, but still they will come.

"Who am i"

Good damn question really, i wonder how many people out there ask themselves that question when they wake up. How many time they have looked into the mirror, and wondered what it was that made them who they are.  That was what i was doing now, staring at myself, well at least in the part that i could still do such in. I owed my mom a new one, this one i broke, trying to kill what i saw on the other side.

Hair is dry, skin is dry, food is dry, must eat.  The Kitchen is empty, no sound, no movement, no life.  It was always like this when i was heading out to work, nobody around, this was the norm though, so not much to be upset about.  The toast taste the same, as it always does, jelly, butter, the same.

The ride to work is the same as well, then again, its one of the few time that things feel different, like for a moment, i am allowed to escape the normal pace that this dead life seems to offer me.  I wonder, is it just me who feels this way, or does the majority of the world feel this way as well, but hides it away, making damn sure no one can see it.

Wouldn't that be just funny, all of us hiding the same thing away from one another, never to know that we shared that one massively common thing.

Though the song on the radio plays another song, i still find my self saying-

"Who am i"

While the beat plays on in my head, never letting go, never allowing me to enjoy the ride to work like i always seem to, but then again, those rides are something more bittersweet than anything else in my life tends to be.  A short time to feel free, only to bring me to a place that makes me feel even more dead than where i was before did.

But i knew why today i wasn't allowed this twisted treat that i so looked forward to on a normal basis, the dream...the hell was that dream about.  The fighting felt so real, the pain of the blade so cold yet so welcoming to me that it caused me to drift deeper into the thoughts i was now creating.  This went on, all the way to work it would seem, my mind racing faster than the engine that was propelling me to my much hated fate.

Then the thoughts stopped, as the building came into view.  The same old cream colored building that i came to loathed since i learned what i was expected to truly do.  i turn off the engine, and one of the songs i heard dies into silence leaving me only with the beat that so well represented what i felt in my heart each and every day i arrived at this place, the utter disdain i had for it and myself.

The stairs, the office, my cubical, and my torment,  a hell i lived for 3 months now and was beginning to wonder if it would completely consume me someday.  The phone rings, and it all begins again

"Sir you have a overdue balance here in our accounts..." My god, i was now a parasite, working for a larger soulless parasite, a collections agency...

The worst part was what i felt happened, not only to me, but to everyone, once they walked through the door here.  In a stranger way, i can see it happen to so many, and even how they try to cover it up as though by doing such they can also hide how disgusted they feel about themselves as well.

As others move by me like the minutes on the clocks around us all, it becomes all to clear...the collars and leashes we wear around our neck, this modern version of slavery.  It all starts with bills and so called responsibilities, but i find these to be more of things we allow to ensnare us, children, family, loved ones, are the normal things we attribute to responsibilities.  But then we go deeper into things, car notes, food, fashion, diets, all the electronics we own, the car we just have to get, or 'need' to have for work and other things.  each one now a collar around our necks, things that we think or know we need to take care of.

In truth all we need in life is a house, a small vehicle comparable to our needs and last food.  of course things like water and electricity is also needed, but that is normally considered under the idea of the house, much like the idea of gas and insurance is put under the idea of a car.  the rest are things we are told we need, clothing is one area i found to be the biggest waste of time and money.  in the end we spend 3 to 4 times more than ever needed just so that others who are also doing the same can think that we have a good fashion sense...

Now those two words make me laugh, Fashion Sense, Who the hell came up with this one!  last time i checked there was only 5 major senses and 1 extra one that is only given to people who can handle its gift, but now we are told of other one.  one that is meant to let us know what kinds of things we use to hide our nudity from the world, and now rather than just us doing that, they are a way of showing our status and of who we are, something much like a flag.  But what good is a flag when its all nothing more than a contest of conformity to become something that none of us really are deep down in our souls, a following puppet to what a few say is or is not.

This rule goes the same for many things, but in the end is no more then a trap, and who do you think gets the most out of these traps, simple the very same place i work, in more than one way at that.

The way its a trap to me is simple, for the things i need, i need money, for the things i want, i need the same, and in the end i need to work at this place to get those things. yet, in the end there is a difference in what i have around my neck, for i do have collars as the others do, each one a thing that brings be back to this hell whole, but in the end very few leashes to keep me bound down here.  instead tags, to show who or why has me here or what i even live for, but in the end nothing more than to show that i have allowed these collars to be placed on me, not forced by the way others want to tell me that i am forced to live a certain life based off of what they think i should do or be.

The few leashes i have are to things that i have few control over, and tend to go beyond this building, mainly my sins, and mistakes of the past.  This being something i tend to think about on a near endless basis, something that drives me mad, but more of that for a later time.

Now the other way this job traps people is rather simple and i think many know how it works form here on out.  simple put you pay for all you need and want, but then its not enough, then again its never enough, now is it. soon the things that you were always told you needed become things you think you actually need.  it becomes more and more about your status then your survival, and soon you find yourself looking to other to aid you in that area, and when you do, they will find you.

Yes you will get their help, for a price that is.  Now if your lucky, you can pay that price and move on with little to no problem, but then again, not everyone's life is that simple and easy, many of us live on something more close to a roller coaster than on a straight line, and thus you fall deeper into a hole that was formed below you by all those things you thought you needed.  then one day, the phone rings, and as you pick it up, hold to your ear, and begin to listen, the next words you hear are these

"Sir you have a overdue balance here in our accounts..."

oh how things come full circle, and how we are all forced down this deep dark hole that is referred to by so many to be life.  Life, now how sad is that, we go from hearing in school of all the possibilities we have waiting for us, to have them beaten out of us by others brainwashed by corporations and businesses hell bent on getting every dollar you have, only to make them that much more richer.

and with each phone i cause to ring, i can hear the collars around all of our necks ring in time with them, heightening the irony of the fact of the true price we pay to wear our mask, the ones we put on for society, one in which only accepts you when you fit to their will and leave behind the true gift of all living beings...free will.

Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Freedom, My car starts, the music plays, and the beat of the song that i had on me all day long, dies out as 3's and 7's takes its place in both heart and mind. the car revs up, responding to my foots pressure on the pedal.  We move, and i become free once again.  Now I'm not really a bad driver, nor a speed demon, but i do think i have a special style to driving, I'm fast but not to fast, and i take a offensive/defensive style to how i move about on the road.  in a lot of ways its much like how i walk, i move quickly and maneuver quite well to the point that i called it shadow walk for quite some time due to the little to no notice i got due to walking the way i did.

As the car moves, so does my mind, linking me to another stream of thought, that of what the soul is, that which makes us who we are.  In truth one must first come to see that we are all equal on this level, that we all share in the same amount of possibilities at our very core.  Next that we, through free will, make out who we are in the end, and that its out choices that compose us.  

Above those thoughts, come the very foundation of the soul, four items really.  Memories, Emotions, Freewill, and pure Spiritual Energy (or as i have come to call it Energist).  But Energist isn't to be confused with external energy, such as Chi or Ki, those forms are the radiant energy that flows from the core of ones soul.

Light is green, i press on, both in my journey to where i stay, and in my thoughts.  We choose many things to believe in, but these seem to be the most basic of ways to look into what we really are, what we seem to forget so easily in a age where information is so prevalent.  Rather strange how the more we come to know, the less we remember about previous information.  Yet i seem to be losing my self in thought, the point still remains, at our core are the three:

Memory, do i really need to go into this, it should be rather simple for anyone to understand and know what this simple core asset is.

Emotions, another one that we all should know all to well, yet also the one that seems to draw more energy out of our soul's core than any other.  strangely enough i would dare say it was the second most powerful of the three that i list here, for by watching and even playing with it, you can change a person's very being to the point of near godly proportions.

Free Will, now this one is that power i spoke of before, this is the one that is the great gift that we seem to toss away to be part of the pack, yet little do we see that even the animals we tend to treat lower than us, seem to have have mastered this area better than we.  it our power to not be allowed to be puppets, to not be another gray clone of so many others.  It is in fact this is the most powerful of all the three for the bare reason that it is the one that makes us more than the others.

Both Memories and Emotions are powerful forces in our lives, for they are the circumstances and situations that will shape out who we are to be, but in the end those still require our choice on how the matter will be handled by us.  Sad really, cause most would quickly point the finger to the past, to the life that they have live, to the pain and suffering, or lack of knowledge about them to some issues, but in the end, it is our choice to change things, and also our choice NOT to change them.

The car slows, no longer on asphalt, but not on a stone driveway, the engine hums but for a moment before it goes quite and still. Here i am, not home but yet here, where the day began, where my mind is tested once again, where other may find refuge, but i find misunderstanding.
i would love to call this home, but in truth, i don't have a home, i have never felt at home in my entire life to be honest, but still, here i am, at the front door, to the place that i rest my head,  to show only my existence and not my soul's worth.  This is my imprisonment.