Distorted Gloom

This rainy precipitation keeps falling endlessly from my face. My hand slips everytime I attempt to wipe the wetness away. No one cares, because no one sees me as myself. Why? They just see me as a some number on a bulletin board. I am quite literally a poster child. I am practically an invisible glob of existence to all humanity. The same humanity that kills each other off as some type of high to achieve. Hi world, I will take my chances. Where no one listens and no one speaks to me. Although, I am free and confined in the same breath. My eyes are bleeding. Yet, I still noticed that my finger tips were turning icy blue. The blank spaces in my mind, allows me to calm the roaring sounds of what is left of my sanity. The colourful liveliness of my body is escaping me in slow motion. My breathing patterns are rapidly increasing against my control. What the heck is happening to me? The inner parts of my thighs are drenched in man-like sweat. Gravity is getting the best of my movement. I passed out in the middle of the alley, and awoke to pooping birds, teenage gossip and zooming cars. The pedestrians walking by were staring, basically gawking their eyes at me. Then my cousin Cassy called for me and chuckled. I reached into my pockets for something, for anything. What I found was a burnt roach of the cannabis that I had smoked for the very first time. You mean to tell me that I was hallucinating in a upper high this entire while. I will not on ant occasion, smoke again!