Είναι ξένοι και μίσος

They are Strangers and Hate.

I have been in bad mood lately
and still am;
the only emotion and feeling being that of hatred and disdain.

I am not normal and do not conform
not by choice or active action
but simply through existence.
Too many thoughts of slashing people in the face,
Of assualt and murder,
as that would be far easier
than trying to explain myself
and watching an all-too-familiar
glassy glaze form on their face
while cogs turn in fruitless unacheivable comprehension
as I already know they cannot understand.

The vainglorious visuals
agreeing with a sixth sense for connection
that I have shared more times with the inanimate and scenario
than with the human being across from me.

And yet you wonder why I do not show my emotions
of why I do not wear my heart on my sleeve
of why I am not bedecked in things similar to you
- because my language and thought are foreign to you
I am an outsider in my native land
cast out-of-time, a remnant and anachronism.

On some days the resulting rapture;
of sheer unadulterated joy for the other
and the diversity of all things
especially peeople,
I wish I could share and spread to the whole of humanity.

But on days like this,
I am inhumane
and cannot even be bothered
to tell you to Fuck Off
because frankly, I do not give a Damn,
and nobody cares you insignificant shit of stardust.

They are Strangers and Hate
- I am strange and so I hate.