One Hundred Million Years Ago a Hero Crossed the Land - Crywank

I want to be a character in some fiction that I write

So I feel that I have authorship over my own life

Built myself into concept to have some control

But subconscious commands me and so does my soul

What is truly my nature?

I try to resist

Hasty thoughts that I make up make me feel sick

Give my ego a premise and try to commit

Still can’t run away from the fact I exist

Sure some times it is nice to be tangible and true

Self-recognition is hard to construe

To be content in yourself, well it’s difficult to do

Sometimes you’d rather be me, somedays I’d rather be you

And maybe in some ways that’s why it’s hard to emphasize

You’re nothing more than characters in someone else’s life

To them you live as the fiction that you would like to be

But without the control over how you’re perceived

You may feel minimized, or maybe misunderstood

Maybe idealized whilst undeserving of that love

So then discard the opinion 'cause they don’t really know you

Just to face the fact that you don’t know yourself too

Sure some times it is nice to be tangible and true

Self-recognition is hard to construe

To be content in yourself, well it sure is hard to do

Somedays you’d rather be me, somedays I’d rather be you