Unlogical Logic

Sometimes I feel like I am on an entirely different planet.  Like my feet are stuck here on Earth, where all I see around me is this disgusting combination of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, along with the most putrid and vile creations of not only life but existence in general.

It brings tears to my eyes.

Sometimes I feel like I was not meant to live a life in this reality that I find myself attached to.  There are times that I often question the idea of reality at all.  Whose to say what reality is? To me reality feels like the constant human struggle to get others to see your reality as you do or to try and see reality as it is to them. 

The human experience is so different.

This is why I get angry when people call other people crazy.  Dismiss and mislabel what you don't understand - easier than trying to understand.
This is why I get angry when people tell me how I feel.  No one will ever know how I feel unless I tell them.
This is why I get angry when people do not respect the experience of another individual - just because one wouldn't do the same, does not give reason for another to attack the ways in which another has chosen to exist, be, dream, say, do, or not do. 
This is why I get angry when people try to change others - the only person who can invoke change is oneself, it must come from within and from a place of desire for that change.
This is why I get angry when people judge what they do not know.  What they cannot possibly know.  You can think that you know it all but all you know is what it is for yourself. 

This is why people say that all human beings die alone.  You are all you have.  You are all you are.  You and yourself and the things that happen to you.  To me, you aren't what happens to you - you are what you make of it.  To me, reality is what you want it to be because if you have to be in it, you might as well create an experience that is made for you - not made for you to fit into. 
To contort or twist into. 
To fit uncomfortably in.

When I think of what I wish reality truly was, it does not fit into the guidelines of typical possibilities. 

I wish that I could become a small particle of matter and bounce around the universe - in silence, in darkness. Not the sad silence, nor darkness. 
Just the quietness of existing, without all the complications.  I yearn for the deafening silence, yet, the hustle and bustle of this reality [life] has me held captive and I stay because life is too beautiful and there is something so comforting about being surrounded by the creations that humans have made.

These buildings.  These roads.  These grocery stores.  These car dealerships.  They are all I know - for I am not a tiny particle twirling through space.  I am many particles, made into a body, in the city of Los Angeles, in the state of California, on the planet Earth.