I'm Trying to Understand

I asked a friend once, "Why do you think people cut themselves?" And surprisingly, without missing a beat, no thought, I got my reply. "Physical pain overcomes mental pain."

But I don't understand, because physical pain can only last so long but mental pain will be there forever. And when you look down at your scars they will be reminders of why you put them there, that's mental pain. When you lock yourself in your room, your solitaire state will be the reminder of the people who stray away because of the cuts. I don't understand how you can feel eased by more pain. Does your offensive approach to your own self conscious require fighting fire with fire? But one thing I've learned is when you fight fire with fire, you only get more fire, and when you put physical pain and mental pain together the only result is suicide.

Make me understand! I can't comprehend what you accomplish when you put blade to skin. As it stands, I will do everything in my power to stop every last person from being tortured by themselves, and I don't believe in the theory of physical pain is better than mental, because mental pain won't leave scars.

Hollisterpostle & Fitch

Walk. You pay to be an advertisement. When you talk to me and I see what you wear I can only guess you are one of them. Generally this is true. But why do you need to pay $50 dollars for a little logo, a half inch wide and a centimeter high on the top left as if to seal your heart closed so you don't let the truth loose. You wear it as a sign of acceptance so that they all know who you are, but it says nothing more than that. Let me break this down for you:

$2 is a mosquito net

$2.50 is food for a week.

$5 is TWO SETS of clothing

$7 is a new pair of shoes

$10 is food for a month

With that $50 you can do one of two things here. You can help that person, who lost his sister to hunger, live, or you can by that shirt which say nothing about you, which makes you their tool, which makes you just another walking advertisement. You see I don't wear a shirt, I wear a personality. When I dress in the morning I make a statement. I put on a shirt with a band to show I like them and thats who I am, and I make it a XXL to have XXL more pride in who I am. It's my way of saying "Hey, World. Im a fat metal head, and I'm proud!" But you say "Hey, World. I have no character. Im just another robot in an army of nobodies..." Open your mind, who cares what they think of you. Dress who you are, cause right now all I see you is as Abercrombie's little Fitch.

Robots

Im sorry I don't march along, programmed to be imperfect creations. The way they want you to be so you can only turn to them when you are in bad luck. Im sorry that I'm not "normal" in your eyes because of my weight, music genre, friends, style. But I wont beg for your mercy, to be like one of you. I was once you, but I realized the truth. And when you notice a difference you beat them into re-programing a thought so the world can be the same as the rest. So we can all be little silent voices but believe we have purpose.

Im not a robot and I don't wish to be one. But running around saying "sticks and stone may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" only makes it worse, because you can only take that as a challenge. But you can't mechanize my mind back to the way it used to be. I look back at that, I have experience and I know what it's like to be a useless voice. At the time I still am, but at least I strive to be heard, instead of become a tool for them. You see, you can't mechanize me because I am no longer that robot of the army of everybody that is imperfect perfect. I wasn't made in a factory, I was made by a creator, greater than your government. 

So I propose you this choice. You can either be a robot of "normal". Or like me, different, but in a good sort of way.