your death is inevitable and you'll be forgotten

I've been having dreams where I try to fit myself into convention and struggle to do so. That I was an outlier in everywhere I've been. I've withheld myself from the truth, that I'm better than everyone I've been at odds with.

More so, a realization that my doubt in my own judgement and how I've internalized it has mutated into a belief that I'm a failure that can't be trusted. I compared myself too often. In hindsight, there have been many times I felt invisible in a space but whenever I did something disruptive I realize I was being observed the entire time.It reveals itself through the red threads people connect between unrelated actions, and they call this my personality. It's never really me though, it's a version of me that's compared to an outline of what others think I should be. I don't look back at anyone, because when I do I always realize "You wished you were me, and you still do."

I hate the idea that life paths find us rather than we are the ones that make them. "The wheel is safer than the will" is all they say to you, in covert little ways. It feels like you're on a hamster wheel, but I'm the wheel itself. It's what you're raised to believe, and you're never taught how to do anything about it. I could read this aloud and so many people would resonate and applaud while others would see it as droning rebellious babble against an abstract enemy. That's also true. This oppression surrounds us, yet I've projected my feelings onto all of it, creating "stuck".

It's manifested into a place on Earth. I still keep everything bottled in because the world feels unsafe, then it continues to be so. I've decided that I will embrace the unknown by declaring where I stand amongst it. Breathless, and stirred after hunting wolves on the Devil's moon. Looking for oxygen where there never was.