this city devoid of devils

2.21 gigs is a start. Sitting here, sorting out music through the night, knowing full well I have an early day tomorrow and my father insists on us having breakfast as a family. Explanation? We all live beneath the same roof, we rarely see each other. A sister who flies off when the job calls for it, a brother perpetually hibernating in his room. Parents who have no true idea as to what kind of people their children are. And me? Your average everyday deviant. She who leaves the abode early in the morning and returns deep into the night. Black sheep.

Baa.

Funny how different strains of music, with different intent in words are able to evoke reactions in people.

I'm tired of asking myself the same questions and getting nowhere. Tired of looking at things from the bigger picture and yet having to focus on the details because then "things won't be right and perfect". I hate sitting in the train and watching white-collared workers milling around me and making me feel that despite my age, I should have just stayed in school and never venture out into the real world.

I don't even know if the real world is the real world. It gets tiring, being all rational and logical and sensible and shit like that. Most times you're just terribly tempted to throw caution to the wind and run free. Though in the context of our society, where exactly can you run?

Nowhere.

To say I feel lost and that I possibly am lost, would be an understatement. It's one of those pre-midlife-crisis things that I suspect many others go through. Like how they envision the calm before the raging tempest (synonymously used to replace the word storm). Ironic, that my iTunes is on shuffle. Out comes Yellowcard's City of Devils, with a verse that hits me harder than anything else.

Flying along, and I
Feel like I don't belong and I,
Can't tell right from the wrong, why,
Have I been here so long

Have I?