Butterfly in A Rainstorm

Ok, it is driving me insane how much I feel I am not listened to! It seems as if everytime I am speaking about something, anything, important or not, my voice is easily ignored. I feel as if I am a chamileon, shifting through the days and weeks, blending in with assorted backdrops and atmospheres. I am nothing more than a couch to sit on, or a toilet to shit in.
Honestly, it does not bother me anymore to be alone, or to be abandoned...In fact, it usually brings me peace and security, knowing that I'm alone. It's like, whenever I'm around anyone, I get to know myself REAL WELL.
I don't personally believe I am an unattractive girl, perhaps not the epitome of 'perfection', but I honestly don't care. If people don't listen to me because I'm no double-c accessory, then they are not worth my time. So, coming down to these last couple of years, when I decided that I am more important than their demands, and picking and choosing who to deal with, or who to just not bother with; I don't believe my attractiveness (or, unattractiveness as the individual case may be) is NOT what stops people from taking me seriously.
Yet I have met numerous amounts of people who believe they are the 'all-knowing-beings' of this universe, and carry on as such. However, these people as well, do not bother me, because they are usually so self-absorped that once you are out of their lives and out of their minds, you are forgotten. Not only that, but coming to a sense of maturity, helps me ease alongside the fact, that loud-mouthed know-it-alls, are simply immature and out to make themselves seem the best.
I, however am not. My goals and ambitions in life are my own, and not destined or ordained by anyone. Swayed, perhaps, but only with concientious and thoughtful conversation, and that rearely happens. The dreams that shroud my daunting mind right now, have been built up throughout these short 18 years of life...Yet, in those lonely 18 years of life, my self-chosen path has made it's debut.
I guess, it's just the loneliness that keeps creeping up my pantlegs. One with passion and a soul cannot stay solitary for too long, it's just not in the nature of human beings. That's not to say I don't mind being alone, but when I wish to be heard, I want to be heard!!
The most vital conversations are ones I have with myself, when the most amazing and important thoughts occur. But they all turn to memories, locked up inside to reappear sometime later in a passion whim, or dream; yet again only to be locked up in my selfish mind.
Then, as I think about it, perhaps it is me that keeps me alone. Perhaps my vibes and thoughts and inner mind is sending off chemicals and reactions, telling the rest of them: "KEEP AWAY". Almost like a monarch-beautiful and mysterious, but foul tasting and sometimes deadly to ingest. Perhaps people are afraid of me...I will admit openly that I sometimes don't feel human.
Nor animal, nor insect, nor plant...I almost feel like a spirit, fluttering around...Not a human at all.

I guess i've kind of taken out all my agression and now I wish to have a cigarette...
Damn it, see? There's my mind again, taking over-ah!! OH NO!!! OH SHIT! NO! NOT THAT!!! I'LL BEGOOD! I:LL BE--


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--You will forget everything you have just read.
all of it isinsubstantial.--