It's sad that I have to keep reminding myself that I'm a good person. My early life is questionable, but at least I'll be able to account for them. When the time comes, I'll be able to say that I did them and had no discernible excuse for them.

But now...I'm a good person. Right? I haven't hit anyone in anger. I'm not an alcoholic or an addict. I've been helpful. I've been there for people even when my own demons were knocking at my door. I've helped mow lawns because no one else would. I've washed dishes while people slept. These things weren't just in my head...were they?

I'm not saying that I've done it all under my own power, but that I've lent hands whenever possible. I did it in order for other's to have less to do. So they could sleep longer, rest more, have less on their minds.

A stranger - all I am is some stranger in the shadows, walking through life pretending to be human in a world sullen with contempt.

But, I keep reminding myself that I'm a good person that's done all he could do. That the reasoning of other's is not up to me, but because of me. That what they see isn't me as a whole, but me, in part.

The things we tend to see are choices we choose to see - the things we are able to see. To people, that is what I am; the parts of my whole. I am rage and frustration. I am anger and uncontrollable emotional outbursts.

To them, I am a scared unweaned child looking to suckle at a mothers teat.

Is that what I really am? Am I what people perceive me to be? If I am that what people define me as, then there is no other perception than what they see. We define ourselves to ourselves but we can't define ourselves to others without the experience that they require in order to make a suitable decision.

I am locked behind my stars, ruled by my fate and imprisoned by perceptions.

I will always be a bad uncontrollable person...that much is certain. I write to show them otherwise. I may never be accepted, but I will prove my worth to the Sun in my life. I need to at least do that much. If I can do that, when I die, at least my Sun will be able to see the whole picture that I was, instead of the shunned person I had always been.