which I know are toxic for me. These destinations in my head, are too detailed. Why do I think of every possible outcome? Why can’t I be one of those people’s who is able to verbally express everything or write it all down. Why do I cram it in the cracks of my brain.
It’s been a while. So it must mean I’m at a low I can’t explain, the source of pain unknown. An unbearable amount of stress I’ve been blocking, which has now build up to something unbearable. I’m supposed to be the one giving advice, not the one desperately screaming
I kind of just wish I didn’t exist. Not in a suicidal way, if there’s such thing. More in a, not having any responsibilities, stress and other pain weighing me down. I want to just LIVE. The place in my mind is too comfy, much like the places on my life I’m too comfortable with
Your struggles are flipped into a competition at this point. As if their own experience is meant to repair yours. My ego guards me from truly echoing my thoughts. A reason why I my shield is made from platinum with tiny cracks and holes. I’m begging you to just listen to me cry.
These four walls conceal your deepest vulnerable moments. Society disapproves of those who are explicit with their emotions and we result in suppressing them. Even my private cries are muffled with shame. But all I want to do is tear my vocal cords with my cries for help.
Your past knocks on your door, nostalgia is a feeling that rarely exists anymore. Your pillow is drenched with the darkness that once existed in your life and your pessimistic thoughts. The salt in your tears are accompanied by the images of life without your existence.
Every trivial thing triggers you. A rose thorn feels like a saw through your heart. The ones who meant no harm, you suddenly see as the tyrants. Your paranoia is sprayed by your anxiety. Who do you trust? Are people just tolerating you at this point?
That breath you didn’t realise you were holding today, no one felt it the way you did. It was as if you were sinking 100 feet below water, experiencing the earth quake, slipping off a tightrope 100 feet above. Are any circumstances on earth even safe anymore?
You take the piss out of other people’s habits yet you secretly do them yourself. You’re a hypocrite, you don’t allow anyone to have down days but yourself. It’s pathetic.
Why do you so desperately feel like you need to prove yourself to them? For what, sympathy and dirty looks towards your vulnerability? You’re just showcasing your annoying tendencies that you know you’re afraid to show.
This bitch doesn’t care, none of them care. No one fucking cares or understands you. They’re all in this life for themselves. It’s not driven from selfishness, it’s human nature. You’ll have to get used to it.