Diary of a pedophile

Better received as "Minor Attracted Individual" but who am I kidding?... I want to scream. It's funny how the human mind urges you towards things that don't actually help. I'm eating what I'm craving but it's never satisfying because it's only the antré, a treat to feed the beast inside me... I want to die, I think about it sometimes, a blade through my right eye, bubbles filling up my lungs all seeming uncomfortably necessary. Why?... That's the question though isn't it? Why me? Why this?... Why?... I'm a part of a minority, what an honour... I'm not the only one, I know that, only thing is everyone else is just as scared as I am to talk about it. We're not in the closet, no, it's different, we're the banished bread, kamakazi kids clicking our heels just to keep our cool, only thing is, we never really were. There was never any cool to keep. Clicking our heels, never making eye contact and swallowing just a little too deep, but don't mind me, I'm just following the rules; smile, laugh, try... Hide... I was once told you can't stop a bird from flying over your head, but you can keep from laying a nest in your hair, only thing is the bird is my sexuality and the nest was already there long before I could have concluded it wasn't normal to have a nest of insecurities nursing a bird to prey on the young heart. Hiding in the shadows of a seemingly regular life, I'm a captive of my own mind, never fully present in a conversation because I'm flooded by the decrease of dictator "what of I just..." . It's a tinted fantasy, like driving in the fog, but you can't turn on the fan to see the run down amusement park and van candy all feeding the stigma of masquerade remedies and the evolution of hope into poisoned alchemy. It seems to me that the world is a punishment over prevention society creating a paradoxical psychology in our mind of silence, feeds impulse, impulse feeds fear and fear, fear ultimately feeds silence. So we wake up in the morning and button up our anxiety and brush our depression while we gargle our insecurities so people know what's coming, Only thing is people never really know what's coming. Life dealt a hand, and no matter how many times I shuffle, they're still the same old cards...