No Pun Intended

*Note: This is not intended to make sense by the format of it. it's just something that was going through my head.

Losing control is something that's become my second nature. Why? I take things out of context, I overreact, I get dramatic. Why I'm not in theater, no one will know. I say things I don't mean to say and I think things I don't mean to think. Can I help it? Yes. Do I? No. I choose to be who I am. I choose to be difficult, loud, stupid, a nuisance, if you will. All the days of my life up to this very second have been wasted on judgment on the world outside of my octagon. Judgment that has led to the ultimate demise dwelling inside of my body slowly decomposing. When I say the wrong thing, I protect myself from damaging my wounds so they are not fixable. When I do the wrong thing I save myself from gratitude. As I finally think back on the things I've grown accustomed to, what do I see? A pathway shaded gray and monsters hiding inside the wall. Why? I have let myself become detached from everyone else. A nasty habit which should not have been started. Even as I type and start to get fuzzy I can't stop, for i have lost control of my fingertips. So they awkwardly slam against the keys continually, having minds of their own plotting against a society full of removable faces.
I fancy sipping iced tea on the hot afternoons which come and go oh so quickly. The sips will eventually turn into gulps and the gulps will leave the glass empty, significant pessimism dripping from my lower lip. Inside me a twister, knotting my organs into the words "I love you" for a someone who seems non-existent. Again the feeling will set in, and once again my sense of control fades. Almost instantly, it comes and goes, leaving me unknowing of what damage it has done or will do. I just sit here, typing this for all of you to take a gander at and move to the next web page three minutes later.
A wise man once told me to let go and fall into the unknown. That which I have done so far is merely a baby step into the catastrophe that lies in the pit of a show in the center of the aggression. Why do I let myself become so wrapped up in such a feeling? So... uncontrollable? So hurtful? So inconsiderate, malignant, appalling? Why do I let such disapprobation bother me in such a great deal? The answer, ladies and gents, lies in a single blood cell. Tell me who you are, and I'll tell you who you're faking. You shall ponder at that thought, maybe sipping the same type of iced tea that was once in my glass. Either way, you wouldn't get any. Your mask might get in the way, don't you think?
I've come to believe that the human race, every single one of us, has a purpose in life. Learning to control it is what challenges most. It challenges me. For now, I'll sit here, letting my fingers do the talking, even if it is in misunderstood circles. That will be fine for now. I'll let my mind think clearly, and I'll let my voice shout sorry to everyone. Everything. The very second this comes to a close, you will be on a teeter totter. On one end, your destiny. On the other, the end of mankind on this hallowed out planet. my advice for you, lean to the left, ask for balance, take a bite of a sandwich, and free fall into the unknown. Don't be afraid to lose control, it'll get the best of you.