I find myself sitting here on the barrage staring at the city, questioning my significance.<\/p>\n
I see spotlights shining into the sky from where revelers are drinking and dancing the night away. I wonder how many of them do that to fill a void.<\/p>\n
I stare into the dark waters with that question. Why is there a void?<\/p>\n
I wish I could yell out my frustrations but with people around, I can’t seem to be myself.<\/p>\n
Do I even know the meaning of that anymore? “Myself”?<\/p>\n
I find myself in the strange predicament of being a different person to different people. I can be the nice easy going person to some people but I have recently confided to someone about some of my baser urges and frustrations.<\/p>\n
And it felt good. Was I repressed for so long?<\/p>\n
Why can’t I confide some of these feelings to people I supposedly trust more? To people who are suppose to be close to me?<\/p>\n
Is it easier to tell someone you don’t know about the dark side of your life? Is it wrong to suppress that dark side or is it wrong to embrace it?<\/p>\n
I have a feeling that the answer lies somewhere in between.<\/p>\n
In between the man and the monster that lies within.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I find myself sitting here on the barrage staring at the city, questioning my significance. I see spotlights shining into the sky from where revelers are drinking and dancing the night away. I wonder how many of them do that to fill a void. I stare into the dark waters with that question. Why is … Continue reading Hyde<\/span>