you can praise me, for my point of views. exiled me, for my sense of nonsense. i’ll still be right here, laughing at my mistakes. which may have made me, who i am… but they will never define, the man i hold inside of me.
remembering the punk ass kid, i once was. fighting the world, with no direction in my heart. taking on the masses. wearing their silly masks. never did scare me. as i got a thrill. when the numbers were against me. like i had something to prove. when all along… i was just a immature little punk. screaming… i do what i want. all part of growing up, i guess. realizing… fighting without a cause. is just as bad as fighting against yourself.
as i point out… every flaw in me. it’s not a lack of respect for myself, these days. i’m just making it clear. i know who i am. wearing my insecurities. as i look in the mirror. thinking to myself. it may have taken years, but i love that crazy man. full of gifts. pissing them away like mere talents. as i push myself to the edge. i’m not daring you to jump. but i’ll take that fall, every time… my heart wants to attempt to fly. because no matter how anyone see me… or how my words and actions are taken. i know it’s damn near impossible. to be understood completely. and i still get a thrill… when the numbers are against me.
-joshua ryan stewart