They run before you can speak. And they go on and on and on....

The brain is the most complex part of the body. Before anyone can verbally say the word, "zoom", at least two or three thoughts already sped through your head. Try it... of course. See? Probably four to six by now.
That's basically my blog, or just words in general. By the time I'm finished with one sentence, I probably had a number of thoughts that I would never - ever - be able to put down completely. It will take longer than forever. My fingers will never be as fast as my brain.
And not even words can explain this. One would probably have no idea how I got from trying to explain the speed of the mind to thinking about standing on the tip of the Empire State building... go ahead and call me suicidal. To get from Point A to Point B takes at least 8 steps in between, under two seconds to get through for me, hours to process for you, probably toil- filled eternity to clearly comprehend.
And guess what? Nobody ever bothers to do that.
Conclusion: SUICIDAL.
Because my mind is more "sick"than the "norm"?

Go ahead. Be a boy in my grade, and call me "emo". Be my father, and call me "suicidal" and "in danger". And then blame it on others. Be another worrisome adult to hear my words, and go subconciously fear me.

But as I see this fear in people's eyes, I can't help but let my heart laugh...

"I never wanted this!" Wrong. It has already happened; to some I'm a completely new "person". I never actually desired a change, but in a way I truly appreciate it now that it occured.
To some, I'm a "freak", a "monster".

This leads me to my next point...

I fail here, there. I cling on to this, that. I've accomplished this, that. I try to let go of this, that. This is how my existence is ran.
Death is so difficult to achieve. I've stopped trying to walk toward it. Just look at the white scratch on my skin from a blade. Nonetheless, no sweet blood to taste. What does that leave me with? Myself still as a walking figure.

My brain will never grow to a different perspective. I've set my code. So yes, I'm stuck.
I might as well be twenty- seven. Or forty. Or fifty- two. Or seventy. Or tragically stuck at thirteen. It's all the same; my head will work the same. But never younger. I pretty much threw that away already as if I can hardly remember it now.
And now, I'm not even waiting for anything. Instead, I'm just thinking about what's ahead of me.
As far as I know, and as far this term goes, I'm good as damned.

___


Well like I said before, words won't fulfill. In that case, I'm not suicidal. Besides, what does that word even mean? Yeah, go ahead and gather a few words and say that's "suicidal". You said I'm human. And humans "are all different". So as far as you are concerned, am I not just "different"? It disgusts me when you say I'm in depression because I never pick up my Wii remote for video games and that I hardly go for a walk at noon.

It goes on and on and on...
Hm.