Because it is different, easy

My brain is doing what it ought not. I have told it to stop, that it is wrong and that it is pointless. Yet, it wanders still. Uncontrollable emotions flood in and now I am aglow. As soon as sight and sound link up the words bring me to life. I feel like I am living for that momment. When it happens I have to control my emotion, control my plan, my urge. It seems I am locked in a room of freedom, the chance to run away. Like Shakespear I dance around the words that I am frightened to type, to admit and to let be real. What is this, where am I now. I guess I have found an escape, but it is not an escape. It is a false reality that has no point, no direction. But isn't that what freedom is about.
It is the words that are said that stagger in my brain. I can't fathom the things said to me. They seem like a dream and it is so refreshing. I want to be asleep and only now feel that is full of happiness. It is hard for me to see past faults. Much harder than it has ever been before. The sit plainly in front of my face, maybe that is because I am ndot clouded in my sight. This isn't the way it has to be, but it is. The hardest part of ending is starting again. Is it because everything around is so impossible. I need a fresh start, completely. I have fucked up so badily that there is nothing left, not at all. My future is fucked, my present is strained and impossible. I am not wrong in needing to be gone. Run away now a part of me says.
Did I do the wrong thing. What is this.