I am confused. My mind is jumbled up. It makes no sense.
Why is it when I try, I don't see why I should; but when I don't, I see every reason to. I tell myself this is life. The moment I try to make sense of things, there is no sense to be made. There is nothing. There is everything.
Who am I? What is this? Why is this? How is this? Where am I now? There is no real answer. I've searched for one so long. Why do we care so much anyway? Why do we search desperately to be something? Why do we put labels on yourself? Why do we want to belong somewhere? What's the point?
There is none. There is nothing. It’s all an illusion. It’s all fake. Or is it? I’ve never really understood what reality was. Chocolate. Why can’t it be chocolate? What? Yeah, I don’t know either.
I haven't done or said anything that could be considered wise. I'm an idiot. I'm not okay with that. I'll never be okay with that. And I will always try to prove that wrong. But I won't. And I'm not okay with that either.
I want to be… I’m not really sure. I want to be me, I guess. I’m not content with that. I want to be better. I want to me someone. I want to disappear. I want to be nothing. I want to sink into my mind. To be someone else. To be in imaginary. Is that real? Your imagination? What is it? What’s fake? What’s real? It doesn’t make sense. It’s here, but it isn’t. I don’t get it.
I think I’m paranoid.
Really paranoid. I’ve never been sure as to why.
Then again, I’ve always had trouble making up my mind.
Do you have trouble too? I’m sure it’s normal. Nothing is strange in my mind. It’s all normal because there is no normal.
There are more important things I could be doing. I have homework. I’m stupid. I’m lazy.
I don't mean that to be rude to myself. But I refuse to see myself as something better because if I do, I'll stop trying.
I guess, I’m a bit narcissistic too. I think I’m so talented. I’m good looking. I’m smart. I become confident when I say these things. Proud. Then something happens and I’m just sitting here like “fuck me.” I can’t stick to anything because when I do, I find evidence to prove myself wrong. I find evidence to prove I’m pretty, and then to prove I’m ugly. It’s confusing.
I'm not sure how I feel about death. If someone I care about were to die, I'd be sad. If I were to die, I wouldn't really care. It would just happen. How do you feel about death?
Some people want to die. I did too. Sometimes I still do. I think it’s normal. Life is hard. Sometimes too difficult. It keeps getting worse. There’s no reason to live.
Then you find one. Then it’s gone.
Sometimes I want to give up, just so I can find a reason to keep going.
I'm not. I say awful things to myself to prove myself wrong. I'm paranoid. I think I'm pretty. I think I'm smart. But if I say that I must not be. So if I say I'm ugly, I'll be pretty. But if I'm saying I'm ugly, so I can believe I'm pretty, I must be an awful person. Then I get stuck in a loop.
That doesn't make sense either.
I told you my mind was a jumbled up mess.
To kill yourself is selfish. To wish someone would just get what you want to say is selfish. We are humans. We were born selfish.
Why haven’t I done my homework?
I want to sink into my mind. I want to be someone else. Even there, I'd miss you. Even now, I miss you. I don't believe I'll cave though. I have too much self control left in me. I mean, if I didn't have it, I would be in jail for murdering my family right now.
Humans are selfish. They just want to be loved. Selfish humans.
I feel like we're having two conversations. And somehow, they merge in the middle.
It's a Sunday.
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