here is my personal mindfuck

that struck me as somewhat similar to how i felt......

so i wrote a poem about it.....
(im not that good...)
a good example too, i guess....

we clowns are happy people, happy because we're clowns, and when our paint comes off, we arnt clown any more.....some would say im not even happy any more...., but i WOULD be a person, if my paint hadnt gotten stuck a wile ago...so long ago that i had to discover whats been told prior to this statement......and now i have to be a clown....though noone knows it, and i lack the capability to tell them, i guess thats one of the classes i cut in high school(sarcasm)wich in my opinion, is too much like a factory.............................why am i wearing paint ....what does the rest of me look like...are their others like me?....that put up with it just to see what the next event is going to be....why cant people eight math classes above mine understand what im talking about....why cant people reguarded as intelligent grasp my kind of concepts....why is their paint staying on....WHY IS MY PAINT WASHING OFF!!!...........................................................................
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....................................ITBURNS...................................
.................................................................i projected myself through my ficade once...i unlocked the door fom my emotion to the outside world...only to find that 1 layer of paint is more than enough to delute the same emotions....and the next door was locked from the other side.....

i think i could conveigh the message a little better if it was heard