Becoming Me
Finding Home
Is it possible to live your life through the eyes of somebody else? To stop moving physically, but be far ahead mentally?
That's how I feel sometimes. Like I've forgotten how to live, for the sake of travelling inside my mind. As if I've let myself slip away, fade into the background, while my thoughts are racing, at an almost inhuman pace.
At other times I'll allow myself to get lost in music and lyrics, feeling as if I'm a part of something bigger, with a meaning beyond anything I'm capable of fully understanding.
A life far away from the world we're all bound to by gravity, where nothing is as important as that growing emotion, ready to explode inside of oneself. It overpowers you, and you don't mind it.
It's like i've found my place in the music scene.
Not having a real family, a place to call your home, is more hurtful than you'd imagine. It can take away your identity, steal your past, and your future. One little innocent question from the time you where 6 and first noticed that your family weren't “normal”, will grow to thousands of endless, questions building up until you can't contain it anymore.
Age 6: “why don't I have anyone to call mommy and daddy?” where are my mommy and daddy?”
Age 9: “Am I normal?”
Age 12: “Why didn't they want me?” “How could they leave me?” “did they love me?”
Age 14: “I don't need them” “why do they still haunt me everyday?” “why can't I just accept that they didn't need me, as much as I needed them?”
Age 15: “where is my home?” “do I have any other family?” “What is family?” “will I ever find somewhere to call home?”
Age 16: “ I need to know who i was for the first two years of my life” “I do need my parents” “Where do I belong?”
That was/are the questions always circulating in my mind, desperately needing answers, to figure out who I was and am.
But I've found my home. My home is a pair of buds shoved into my ears, blasting the music I breathe, on the highest volume possible, yet wishing it could go higher. My home is awkward dancing, head banging, and singing out the lyrics I know by heart, even though it sounds like shit.
It's what gives me the strength to do what I want, be whoever I wanna be, and ignore the ignorant hateful comments of people that are jealous because they don't have the guts to be themselves.
My home is watching BryanStars on YouTube when I can't find a smile, knowing it'll only take 10 seconds, for him to make me laugh. Random "That's what she said" jokes, voice cracks, blue balls, porn star names, and making even the toughest rock stars out there seem human, can save my day.
My home is watching dorky people on YouTube.
I'm a Danosaur, a part of the Lion Army, in love with Charlieissocoollike, laughing at Lukeisnotsexy, crazy about Defizzy, and so many others :)
My home is weird conversations on Facebook with my friends on their Timelines, that makes other people question our sanity, and us laugh.
My home is being the crazy loud girl I am, and being damn proud of it.
My home is in my heart.
That's how I feel sometimes. Like I've forgotten how to live, for the sake of travelling inside my mind. As if I've let myself slip away, fade into the background, while my thoughts are racing, at an almost inhuman pace.
At other times I'll allow myself to get lost in music and lyrics, feeling as if I'm a part of something bigger, with a meaning beyond anything I'm capable of fully understanding.
A life far away from the world we're all bound to by gravity, where nothing is as important as that growing emotion, ready to explode inside of oneself. It overpowers you, and you don't mind it.
It's like i've found my place in the music scene.
Not having a real family, a place to call your home, is more hurtful than you'd imagine. It can take away your identity, steal your past, and your future. One little innocent question from the time you where 6 and first noticed that your family weren't “normal”, will grow to thousands of endless, questions building up until you can't contain it anymore.
Age 6: “why don't I have anyone to call mommy and daddy?” where are my mommy and daddy?”
Age 9: “Am I normal?”
Age 12: “Why didn't they want me?” “How could they leave me?” “did they love me?”
Age 14: “I don't need them” “why do they still haunt me everyday?” “why can't I just accept that they didn't need me, as much as I needed them?”
Age 15: “where is my home?” “do I have any other family?” “What is family?” “will I ever find somewhere to call home?”
Age 16: “ I need to know who i was for the first two years of my life” “I do need my parents” “Where do I belong?”
That was/are the questions always circulating in my mind, desperately needing answers, to figure out who I was and am.
But I've found my home. My home is a pair of buds shoved into my ears, blasting the music I breathe, on the highest volume possible, yet wishing it could go higher. My home is awkward dancing, head banging, and singing out the lyrics I know by heart, even though it sounds like shit.
It's what gives me the strength to do what I want, be whoever I wanna be, and ignore the ignorant hateful comments of people that are jealous because they don't have the guts to be themselves.
My home is watching BryanStars on YouTube when I can't find a smile, knowing it'll only take 10 seconds, for him to make me laugh. Random "That's what she said" jokes, voice cracks, blue balls, porn star names, and making even the toughest rock stars out there seem human, can save my day.
My home is watching dorky people on YouTube.
I'm a Danosaur, a part of the Lion Army, in love with Charlieissocoollike, laughing at Lukeisnotsexy, crazy about Defizzy, and so many others :)
My home is weird conversations on Facebook with my friends on their Timelines, that makes other people question our sanity, and us laugh.
My home is being the crazy loud girl I am, and being damn proud of it.
My home is in my heart.