My crossroad.

I have a passion for geniality, just browsing through someone's mind through the door they left in the world feels me with emotion.

I rarely admit my own genius, I hide it, I dumb myself down because I'm lonely, so I can relate easily with people.

I'm not proud of it, I think it's a flaw of mine, but most people don't like to feel challenged. They want to be the one shining, the star, the epicentre of reality.

I want peace, companionship, happiness, but this cruel seductress called loneliness helps me improve. And so, because I think when I'm alone, because I don't dumb myself down to be relate-able. On my own I evolve.

So alone I thrive but hunger.

Together I feast but whimper.

Such is my cruel fate.

I do not lead I follow echoes through my mind, a single little lie that pesters the dark corners of my being.

But why shouldn't I lead?

I'll tell you why, because no matter how good I am at it, leading leads to a life of choices too hard to make, too hard for me to sleep, too hard for me not to feel the guilt destroying me from the inside.

But I still lead and don't follow. I learned from the ones around me, never becoming better until they are gone from my sight so I won't outshine them.

People will read this text and point out my flaws, my mistakes, my darkest secrets. I don't care, that's nothing, it's weak, it's your defence when you feel out-powered it's your last resource to point out weaknesses in others to hide your own, to make you feel better. Yes I am gullible from time to time, specially when I'm not alone, undisturbed with my thoughts, but in the end, I know,
even subconsciously I know.

All the flaws, all the mistakes, all those secrets you have been hiding, I know.

And now you're probably thinking to yourself, if only you knew what I know.

I know, I'm not blind, and almost everybody talks, everybody speaks, everybody caves in sometimes, when they are lonely, desperate, vulnerable. Because after all we always need a little weakness.

I work harder than most and act like I work less than most. Why? Because nobody likes someone working that hard, showing that much passion for something so minuscule, so empty of meaning, of purpose.

I have no ulterior motive and I have all the ulterior motives.

I want balance, I want knowledge, I want love, passion, feelings piercing my soul. I crave tears of joy and sad laughter. I wan't to travel, to see the world.

I wan to make it better, but to be heard you have to make noise, and I prefer to be quite, to be humble. In reality my heart is butter, it melts with the warmth of the human touch, And how long has it been since I felt that warmth? Days, months, years?

Perhaps I never felt it, I never received it and so I keep searching, ever faithful to my unfaithfulness, ever watching, ever caring. Could that be the truth? Could that be my reason?

It can't...

Just being ambitious get's me sick, being greedy get's me sick, being envious gets me sick. I know. I have been all three. And yet here I stand, locked away in this fortress of solitude, silently typing away on my keyboard, shouting in silence, in the flimsy hope I will be heard.

But I shout in vain, well not really in vain, every now and again someone listens, someone realizes, like when from a little spark, from that little tinder comes the fire, that fills this room and clears away all that's dark?

How can I see so much and yet be blind, so lost, so confused?

Who knows, I have been blinding myself my whole life. So maybe I'm not really blind, I'm just choosing not to see.

Isn't that a pleasant story, a pleasant tale, a deserving reveal for the grande finale.

I'm seeking, I'm searching, I'm following that dim light and choosing to ignore it. Because in the end, whenever I follow I'm not really following, I'm just learning, steadily behind you until the day you look back and I'm not there. I'm somewhere else, somewhere on a different road, on a different plane, pulled away from your world and dropped into another never leaving my own. And again I follow, calmly, reserved, so that one day I can lead, so I can be the dimming light on that road, just lighting your path, not really being a destination, a finish line.

I'll just be that warm fuzzy feeling, that comforting light while you rest from your adventure, gently dreaming about mine, from all the stories, from all the tales. From all those words that were left along in your path.

Then again, I might be wrong, and all I might be missing, all I might be overlooking might really just be there waiting. Resting in the shadows, not waiting for me, just waiting for our paths to cross.

A good friend told me not to get stuck on my own prison, to unlock the door and search for that intersection. Is she right?

I'm not sure, no one will ever be sure, but I am willing to at least try, who knows what I might unravel on that crossroad.