Self-belief; it purges my speech.
Ripples my words when I want a smooth stream.
But how can I speak any more coherent,
When those around me keep kicking the current?
Forced into the frame of socially-incapable,
But it’s alright mate; your appearance is somewhat serviceable.
But I’m more than that, I have so much to say –
I’m not a still image; I’m a video struggling to play.
So many years, they disrupted my signal.
Spinning me round on a buffering circle.
But I managed to find a better connection,
But the update was never going to be a smooth expansion.
Constantly remoulding and reshaping the model,
Hoping for distraction from the software internal.
This isn’t right, where’s the pride in introversion?
Is it there, or is the answer physical compensation?
Nerves are the enemy; confidence the cure.
Former prevents the latter; a paradox I endure.
But you think that subtle alienation’s going to stop me?
You’ll be the one who’ll first face my fixed personality.
Except, do I even need to be fixed?
Succumbing to all of conformity’s tricks.
You stick by those who embrace your flaws and your grit.
I’m damaged and I’m strange – Fucking deal with it.