My Compass is Crooked

I feel so unnecessary some days...an invalid in a valid world.  Imagine if you will an entire day spent as a fraud, a fake, a phony.  It's as though there is not an original thought in my head.  I exist as a fleshy regurgitation machine, spouting nonsense in sensical text so those valids around me can understand and tolerate.  Although, I haven't been spending too much time around originality lately so they probably wouldn't notice if I just began to spew absurd lyrics of a troubled soul in replace of my well-thought and preplanned organized bullshit.  I am a tape recorder sending out my message born of others' messages;  things I've heard, seen, done and had done to me.  I no longer create, but recapitulate.  I listen to those around me, attempting to discern the liars from reality...it gets more and more difficult everyday as I become one of them. I am a dissident forced into a poser frame, lying to myself and others.  They don't matter so much cuz they don't realize it anyway.  I do.  I see that I suck.  I can't quite figure it though...the changing part.  How to erupt from this shell, this casing of safety and be the person I was meant to be.  Quizzes abound and still no path to follow.  There is something in me that needs to get out...not like Alien, not evil anyway...that would be awesome though.  Maybe that's the only way growth happens.  It's not slow or progressive at all, but explosive and disgusting and sequels filled with Sigourney Weaver.  I love her, she's so weird.  What would be in charge then?  Who would run the show I call a life?  The way I live now...just isn't enough.  I am missing passion, excitement, fulfilment.  You should be able to have a taste of those every day.  I despise pretending like I'm happy.  Like what I do matters.  Why is the first question we ask anyone upon first meet, "What do you do?"  That is who we are.  That is depressing.  I may have hobbies, things that spur about my creative poser, but I spend more time working than all else.  I've chosen stability and money over value.  I don't value either of those things, and yet I choose them over spontaneity, freedom, intensity and stimulation EVERY time.  That makes no sense.  Nonsense.