My little Black Box

welcome to my warped world take a walk in my mysterious shoes and if anything u see makes sense Please help me get a clue My frantic search for peace my reality in being a storm powering all the noise and chaos My little black box, amorphous in form. This poem could get long, It could be ridiculously short I cudn't tell, just cuz I'm really sleepy and yet not. Anyway, so my little black box As transcendent as its colour simple, empty, evil, dark complex, dense with god knows what! Go figure In a world of learnt habits, choices, standards The box alone I call mine Although, I know nothing of how it works.. Of its contents too I am blind. stuff goes in - visual, auditory, olfactory, sensory stuff comes out- thoughts, feelings, actions et al It's like there's an invisible person sitting in there Cuz these things I'm not actively involved in at all. Why do I feel alone all the time, Why does no one understand every aspect of me How can i love and hate the same person so much How can I feel close to u and still be a mystery Grab the box and the world will turn to mayhem Fate leaves life written in stone and yet a pen in my hand Thoughts and feelings dictate action ..i feel above both in the fabric of existentialism, I am a mere strand. Grab the box and ur in the zone, where adrenaline highs get u through school where strong emotions are bizzarely out of control where all life turns into a big dream, and you an instinctual fool. Have you ever cried a million tears over a person or an event You hate every second of the pain & suffering But you wudnt change the past or the outcome - you dont repent. As if aware that the pain was fate, yet bitter it felt like a choice Lost in a meaningful symphony Searching for your own voice. Inconsistent decisions, non coherent emotions Changing experiences, dynamic personality How can i know that though I keep changing with time And still be sure I'm being me. Then again where am I? who is me The only me is in that box - my home, my prison And again I pick abandon over no identity The twisted bitterness of fate, but this path was chosen. The struggle outside, the struggle within I am forgiving but i never forget I like strong but soft, determined but flexible I am loud but quiet, inattentive but observant SHUTUP, SHUTUP - I dont KNOW how to word it - I'm a black box, a violent storm: Danger! Avoid or Circumvent.