The title is below

The Lonely Velvet Road

There is hole inside of me, a vacant space, I cannot live with out my own, my story has been faded into dust, I cannot breath, I cannot live anymore, there isn’t a point.

A story of a boy on a string, Never once in his life has he proved them wrong, Never has he felt so kept up, he has been kept up his whole life, and just wants to break free. So many years of deep depression and inner instability makes him what he is today, the scared, the easily angered, and the complicated little boy. Complicated in the sense of he lacks the inner stability that would make his life more simple more motivated more successful. This little boy is me.

He lacked the simple values of courtesy towards his parents; he lacked the will to keep his word. He wanted to help himself more than he wanted to suppress them, he sees no wrong in wanting to break free, he sees no wrong in wanting to help himself , he sees no wrong in being selfish for the moment for he is very, very hurt and tortured by the feeling of never being free. He needs to find the very meaning of his existence, why his play was ever written for him, for the world. Never wanting to be in his position, his life wasn’t intended to be like this, his life that he would have written it would have been more flowery, and yet his father said something about reality to him today, he cannot seem to find meaning in that word, that little boy is me.

He was just interrupted by his mother and now has lost his concentration, he will continue this…I don’t know what he would call it. He will call it a night, and continue tomorrow, he never meant for this to happen, it just did, he has seemingly found something but that something is what is causing him to rebel, restrictions for this break month, to find himself he has to do it on his own, to find something not with the help of his parents or his sibling or a professional, more of something he has to find with the freedom of his break month, all they can do is give me the time to find what’s missing, and what is the filling of the vacant spot, he doesn’t know yet, he needs to find it himself, this little boy must find the screw that holds him together, the meaning in life not practical, but spiritual and more of his inner self. He has to find meaning to the life of this little boy, the reason to go on, to start living again, and to finally not want to die.

(Cont)