Endurance

What's happened with this, conscience of mine? I can perceive, yet I'm numb with compassion indifferent

Has it vanished? Or shifted and expanded with malignance? Dark energy, maybe I am it's dominion?

I can't quite put my finger on it; ["You're out of touch."] Well, I assume my family isn't

['Cause they push my buttons]...

To appall, oh! I've blasted off to oblivion

Needed some space like a NASA mission, but now I'm in an absence... Gone missin'.

Couldn't handle the reaction of sitches being of a portrait in unbalanced dimensions

Hazardous environment with haphazard discipline and put-[downs] in [up]heaval via rash decisions

This state of affairs then makes a transition onto my canvas, it's vivid, pitch black with a tint of

[Feelin' the blues.] "Who the fuck is playing those jazz instruments!?" ...

Yeah life's a nasty bitch but I ain't bitchin', put yourself in my shoes and stand in my position;

Paranoid and anxious as all hell, can't help but act suspicious

Whilst walkin' on prematurely hatched chickens, getting henpecked.

I'm not in good feathers, am I for the birds? It's like I'm trapped and pinned in

Said they'd take me under their damn wings and help me [branch out] but I'm [stick in]

[The mud]; an impractically optimistic and stagnant pessimistic, wacko symptoms, is it Aspie syndrome?

No blame, if you look at my past and think an outrageous circumstance to live in

Could impact my subsistence today then you'd imagine this was predicted

As if it were on the cards to dwell and play solitaire with no hand given

To have thoughts that this is my fruition of melancholy

And although people do reach out, ask me "How is it, goin'?"

I'm all thumbs seeping thru the crack of they' finga's

Stammerin' and whisperin', can't you see you're beating a dead horse?

So please, don't hold your breath... I can hold my own "In no pants" Eh, I know I'm limbless...

Still [stumped] in life, [no leg to stand on] it's like I'm staggerin' limpin'

I mean shit, we all need something to [lean on]...

So I grabbed a pen and, made it my [crutch] to potentially get a [leg up] on battling you bitches

I essentially just hit a rough patch, I'm a nitwit

Sorry if I get [choked up] I just lasso'd my self a necklace

They say "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," so here I am with the needle threaded

[At the end of my rope] contemplating whether I should cancel my existence.

Don't believe me? Why would I fabricate? I don't think I'm cut out for this

The demons whisper I'm trash and insignificant but fuck that

I say ["Cut me some slack I'm twisted,"] "C'mon adversity, [scrap me](" Demons whisper I'm trash" scrap means to throw away, or fight.), I'm persistent."

I've already fought with every [fiber] of my being and adapted from affliction

This is only a sample of my predicament... So relish in it, it gives me satisfaction and fulfillment, to keep goin'

I've evolved exalted with ultimate and immaculate diction

I guess I'm not impractically optimistic after all

Look on the bright side I've also mastered intuition

I'll keep fighting this depression and get back up and outlast it's wistfulness, challenge antagonistic bullshit

Then write something dope, in a way, I guess you could say it's masochistic

Because art and pain counteract in coexistence.