The Worries of the Depressed

It’s not clear who I am, what I am. This world is a dark one

Put on your night vision to see wise one. There are questions bugging my subconscious sometimes

knocking me off consciousness. Countless thoughts stampeding my mind. Out of the sea of questions come these few. I’m I different? Why do I think I’m different? Why do I attribute to me a feature of matchless quality? I don’t seek to boost my ego. Maybe I do. What actually spurs to nurse these thoughts? Well  that’s basically the ‘thought’ percolating through me. Sometimes I say to myself you are uniquely insane.

Sometimes I ask myself, do you know why you’re on this on your lane?

At other times I think I am of a rare and special species.

 I might really be ‘’special’’

I may be genuinely nuts upstairs

Or maybe my mind is yearning for greatness because it is presently  immersed in a pool of mediocrity

Now thinking in the line of being special;

What if this environment ain’t meant for me, for my kind of person

What if my thoughts my mind and its content are indeed encrypted for a peculiar civilization

What if my kind are seeking me frantically?

What if I am a missing link to a very big thing?

A new world order, a new kind of life, a new technology, a rebirth, a new art…

…what if…

Snapping out my ‘reverie’

Time will not tell, it is environment that will, opportunity might take sides with time

That will not stop my mind from saying its mind

I’m a regular guy (with a supposedly regular brain)

It is not clear why I keep conceiving these ‘extreme’ thoughts

 Okay maybe time will tell after all.

Well I’ll just keep to the standard in Africa so just I won’t be tagged a retard

I’ll accept their precepts…for now. I’ll keep walking with society. SOCIETY, that name alone makes me sigh.

{Deep breathes} hmmm. As long as I can find love in the world. As long as love exist, I guess I’ll exist

And as long as I exist I should be able to decipher convoluted happenings that make me sigh and feel far from reality.