Right on Hope Street

I left the sanctuary today.  The longest stretch I've ever gone, I believe.  No air.  No outside.  No others.  It was exquisite solitude which has left me rather weak.  I feel as though I've been siphoned off of all the useful qualities I had to offer.  Now what?  A pale and emaciated form faking its way through a day with other shells who fake it so much easier.  The frightening fact of it all is that I don't believe them to be falsifying their days...terrifying, truly.  I took a slow stroll through the mecca of facades and as my sadness peaked, I came upon a street sign.  'Hope St.' it said as clear as the day was grey.  Right or left or turn around and run screaming with what dignity you have left, I thought as my legs carried me in a southerly direction, or right on Hope Street.  I came to a clearing which opened to a view of the mountains in the distance and beautiful homes spanning the great distance to them.  I sat on a bench overlooking our redundant creations and cried.  I had on sun glasses, for salty streams must be kept subtly under style.  I cried for all the reasons I usually do but there was something new in these tears.  Something i don't often admit.  I hate my pretend self.  I fucking hate this bitch more than anything I ever thought I hated.  I hate this girl who closes her mouth when it should be opened.  I hate this girl who smiles sweetness when she should be spitting truth.  I hate this girl who hides and cowers in the back ground when confrontation should be embraced.  I hate this girl who hides from love when it should be shouted from every corner of the room.  I hate this girl.  I am this girl.  How did things become so wrong, so off.  How have I forgotten to be real and true and me?  Where have I put the meat of who i am and when did I accept so fully this impostor as the only way?  I want to know when it started and for how long I've kept it quiet.  How fucking long have I been who i am not suppose to be and will i ever get to a place where I remember me for real?  Is she lost forever?  Too long abandoned...would I know her if I saw her?  Am i too betrayed to see reality when it comes now...fuck, if it comes at all.  What if I'm stuck like this for the rest of my life?  ...A fashioned poser of societal cloth, forever entranced by the machine, knowing better yet still without action.  Meek.  Meager.  Not unlike the rest.  I hate all of you more I think.  Perhaps my hatred will be my savior.  The one thing people were always repelled by and I kept under wraps.  It will be my fuel to overcome this sharp pain that permeates the right side of my skull that I can only attribute to sheer disgust for my inaction and ineptitude.  Yes, i shall revolt yet for a reality which is mine and no ones ideal shall taint it.  I won't let this happen again.  I can't...for I will be truly lost to the fate of the rest, a fate worse than death.  I will be YOU and I won't even realize the hate I feel is for myself and no one else.  I put myself here and now I need out...please let me find the way out.  Please let me find the courage to find the way out.