Different Personalities, Same Person.

Life has a weird way of letting you experience all the things you swore you would never do.
Perhaps it's drugs or maybe something as little as trying a particular food or looking at life from the eyes of a particular ideology. Then all of a sudden you look out and you are everything you said you never would be. Sometimes it's good and you wonder at your previous state of mind or what you would call close mindedness. Other times, you become that thing you hated most, you embody its essence and breathe its soul.
We all experience it to some degree or another, sometimes noticeable other times not.
I guess where i'm heading with this is that I've noticed myself being that person who looks back and discovers that she's a whole other person. The one who's almost shocked at the changes which came little by little to all of a sudden open my eyes and find the person who i am today.
It's not in a bad way mind you, I'm actually glad to have reached where i am today.
and to this, cheers all around!

Figment of my imagination

If this life is a figment of my imagination
then i am twisted in every sort of way
If my life is a figment of my imagination
where my mind makes up the reality around me
then i have a sick sense of humor.
and Oh God, i'm surprised that
i haven't yet given myself a tumor,
If i'm the "primes cause" as they say
and the things i perceive are
the only ones which i can prove
then why the hell am i creating
alll.this.pain!
Because somehow i like
creating a reality of a man
who is perfect in every sense of way
who is my idea of prince charming
you could say
then i add a minor detail of how
he has no interest in me.
Moreover, to add some sugar to the cake
i'll put together some other guys who like ME
and whom i have no interest in.
and because my mind is really something
I'll imagine, greed, famine, hate and war
then i say it is so that i cannot have a hand
in changing that reality
or if i do, it is on no massive scale.
That odd sense of humor
decrees it so that
i can imagine a reality
in which i cannot bring forth
unicorns, neither can i fly or
breath underwater
or do anything intrinsically
interesting!
or have it go my way.
Rather it seems my imagination
overall dwells on suffering
and takes its sweet pleasure in it.
it is crippled and unsupportive  
and if the life i see
is a figment of my imagination,
then we're all screwed.