Random Whispering Thoughts

It was an odd feeling. To see yourself outside of your body. Watching everything you do, as if looking on from someone else's eyes. But I found myself doing it alot. I'm not sure if it was because I was afraid I'd make a fool of myself, or because I wanted to see myself how others saw me, but I knew I had some motive behind it. And I kept on with it. A strange one, I am. I'd known I was different all my life, but watching myself as I've been lately, I see it plain as day. I wonder if people really see me like this. Do they look at me with these thoughts in their heads? Am I strange to them? I can't really know for sure, but I can imagine. Of course I always imagine the worst. And what I imagine is that they do see me as a strange person. They smile and talk to me like they've always done, but I can see it, in their eyes. Their smiles, their conversations, it's all cosmetic. At least that's how I see it. But, then again, I always imagine the worst.

This is what I do. My mind races with all of these different thoughts, some of them aren't even comprehensible. Those are the ones that bother me the most. How can thoughts run through my head if I can't even understand them? And why do they come in the first place? You're supposed to be able to control your thoughts, right? But is that really true? Can you really? I can always control the loudest voice in my head, but the less audible ones are always there, whispering what they have to say with no regard to what I'm thinking about. I mean, sure, they'll consider what I'm thinking about, and branch off into their own little thoughts based on that loud voice. But I'm not really in control. And what's worse, sometimes I find myself trying to mask my thoughts around people, for fear that they might possess some ability to see into my mind. My thoughts are supposed to be for me only, and thinking is supposed to be the only true freedom we have. But for some reason, I find myself afraid that other people can hear them, and because of that, I've lost a bit of that freedom. I suppose it's my own fault. I mean, even if others can hear my thoughts, I shouldn't care about what they think. But in all seriousness, I sometimes wonder how people would react to what goes through my head sometimes. And I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks in such a manner. My thoughts are so random at times, I can't find a reason as to why some of them would even be surfacing. Those random thoughts, those are usually those whispering voices...the quiet ones that attempt to lay down some sort of blueprint to the loud voice that I do have control over. And it works for the most part. That is until I find myself looking at my mind, from another angle, as if from someone else's eyes. Reality hits, and I then try to regain control of my thoughts. But they always manage to wander again.

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Random Realizing Thoughts

He was an amazing specimen. He was. And I saw it from the beginning. But..., I was afraid. I was afraid that I wasn't good enough for him. And I was afraid that he was just a dream, or a figment of my own wild imagination. He was the embodiment of everything I'd ever wanted. Was it possible for him to really exist? I'd had dreams of him before, coming towards me with open arms. Of course the face was always blurred beyond recognition, but I guess it was because I was supposed to find him for myself. And, when I did, I was scared he wasn't real.

As amazing as he is, for some reason no one has seen him the way I do. No one's seen how extraordinarily special and uncommon this beautiful specimen was. And for that I felt great pity. Not for him, but for those who've not had the fortune of seeing such a spectacular sight. I just couldn't understand how he could have gone on unnoticed for so long. I mean, from the first time I met him I saw it. And I couldn't believe it. It couldn't have been true, he couldn't really exist. Only.. he did. And when that realization hit, I was terrified. I was terrified because this being, this person, he was everything I'd ever longed for. He was that dream, that blurred face. And I couldn't reach out for him. I was terrified because I couldn't have him. And life has an unusual knack for being cruel.

So I sat back, watching with great sadness, as this perfect person walked around going unseen for what he really was. And as hard as it was, I didn't even let him know that I knew. Now, I'm not saying that he sees himself as the incredible person that I see, I just meant I didn't tell him what I saw in him. I didn't tell him how I'd felt. And I bit my lip every time I'd talked to him. All because I was afraid. In my head, I knew I couldn't have him. He was too perfect to be had. He was my dream, and we can never really have our dreams, right?....Right?