Surrender

Segment 1: Choices







Segment 2: Life
I have come to understand that I am no good at at life. I have been living for 17.5 years now, and as i get older, it becomes harder and harder to be a person who reflects the person i think I'm supposed to be, by peoples standards, by my family's standards, and by my own standards. Its like i an incapable of being a whole, real person, on my own or with others. I'm disjointed and i hate it. That is shown by the faces, stories, lies, and unexplained realities that everyone knows about me, in comparison with t he unusual feature of my real self that is completely miserable and confused about its own identity. In short i have no idea what or who i am.
Every decision i have made, every choice over the last few years that i can think of has caused an inordinate amount of stress, anger, confusion, and all other kinds of problems. I try to live, but i fail at it. I'm not really good at much other than chronicling my own feelings, which usually change to frequently to be worth interpretation. I make choices that affect my life, but time after time i choose to do the thing that is going to turn out worst in the end. From College, to Friendships.
Being so poor at living, i have decided to give up. Life isn't my strong suit, so i quit. I'm done living. I surrender. This isn't a suicide note, so don't freak out. This is just my way of explaining things. Honestly this isn't out of depression either. Its reality. I don't think I have been this indifferent about anything in my whole life. Ordinarily i wouldn't even bother posting something like this for two reasons: i just don't care about this move in my "life", and i dont want to deal with the reactiosn of most of my readers.
I'm Breaking that protocall becasue this may become inportant to remember, so im chronicling it. Also this may have ramifications to which someoen might be interested, thought i doubt it.
In giving up on life, I also am shutting down my Social "Outboard Motor" (ask me yourself for an explination of that metaphore). In simple terms it means i wont be seeking any form of social interaction anymore. If it comes to me, sure, ill take it. For example the Davis's Harvest party. My parents are going, and im sure they expect me to go, so i will go and socialize, but if i had to arrange my own way there, i wouldn't go.
The reason for this si simply that i have gown tired of most people. I can name a few exceptions, but generallyt hat is the case. It's not because of people, its mostly myself. I can't seem to hold a real live friendship anymore without some form of fake bravado or lie to cover how much i really hate myself. Its not worth it anymore, at least not to me. Again i doubt the impact of this will be significant as im not the kind of person people seek to hang out with. I dont really fit with many people, and at this moment, I see that as a good thing.
In the past i woudlnt have made such a social policy "public" but as my readership has all but died, i dont expect many peopel will see this. I can think of three peopel who might read this, and two of them havent actually met me in person before, so to them, this really dooesnt apply. I have 6 IM accounts and i talk to two people on one of them. That about says it all i guess.

Segment 3: Stronger
A mixture of confusion and fear eminated form the many peopel who sat mumering in the church pews, forced to stay in those seats at gunpoint. These are faces he knew, but none had really ever known him. That wasnt surprising. He was tempted to scan their faces, to look through the crown for the one face he knew would be most concerned for him. He refrained. His colorless eyes pointed strait ahead, hidden behind an unorganized, yet still well kept lock of red tinted brown hair.
Words were spoke from the person standing down the asile, angry words, but he didnt hear them. They were drowned out by the tones and words of the music tha tplayed in his ear from the wires attatched to the device in his pocket. That first man, dressed in black kevlar armor and brandishing a shiny balistic weapon at him moved a little closer. That was all it took.
He didnt know exactly how far the distance between himself and the frist man was, so he was unable to be impressed at the speed in which three shots rang out. He felt the bullets fly armlessly past him as that distance closed to zero. His enteir body was in the air after a great leap, the full weight of his body, combined with the momentum of his movements were thrown into his first blow, the second, an elbow, finding its open target only a fraciton of a second later. A knife, taken from the gunmans own belt, made quick work of the veins in the gunman's neck.
The next gunman had only tiem to draw his glossy black peice before his arm was entangled in a lock, and a colision into his chest knocked him to the ground. After that he had only enough whit to feel an shoe puch his fae at an odd angle and a snap in the back of his neck, before everything was black forever.
Two. How many had there been holding these people at gunpoint? Seven? Ten? He hadn't counted, but two were dead and the rest now understood that it was time to open fire. The bullets of the two now just up the aisle of him flew past, much closer to hitting him that the first gunman's had been. Angrily, following a feral instinct, he dropped to the ground, stil rushing forward, though now with the help of his hands which clawed at the carpeted floor. Bullets tore at his shirt as the two in front of him fell amid the dlurry of his ckicks and the slashes of his stolen knife.
He was now in front of the altar of the chappel. Now all the other gunmen had a clear shot at him. His black, button down shirt gave way under the relentless spray of bullets, revealing his now bleeding chest. His eyes closed and the feral instinct now faded into his full personality as lead casings fell to the ground around him, after hitting his solid skin.
The Spray of hot metal stopped, the gunment curious and now afraid. The hostages, once his friends, watched, not curiously terrified of what he might be. His eyes opened. No longer blakc human eyes. Blue, with that dark red symbol in their centers, replacing the pupils. More victims would come... and there was no rainbow to stop him. No Alyssa. Not this time.


Segment 4: Headstrong

Circling your, circling your, circling your head,
Contemplating everything you ever said
Now I see the truth, I got doubt
A different motive in your eyes and now I’m out
See you later
I see your fantasy, You want to make it a reality paved in gold
See inside, Inside of our heads (yeah)
Well now that’s over
I see your motives inside, decisions to hide


Back off I’ll take you on
Headstrong to take on anyone
I know that you are wrong
Headstrong we’re Headstrong
Back off I’ll take you on
Headstrong to take on anyone
I know that you are wrong and this is not where you belong
I can’t give everything away
I won’t give everything away


Conclusions manifest, your first impressions got to be your very best
I see you’re full of it, and that’s alright
That’s how you play, I guess you’ll get through every night
Well now that’s over
I see your fantasy, you want to make it a reality paved in gold
See inside, inside of our heads (yeah) Well now that’s over
I see your motives inside, decisions to hide