Rambles

I�m tired . . .weak . . .scared . . .cold . . .shaky�
worse when people seem to understand . . .numb . . .prickly.
Everything around me is too fast--
too much stimulation,
too loud.
Time passes weirdly,
mainly too slowly.
Cry
tears, then
shiver
while the stomach clenches.
It�s hard to speak and
my voice
breaks
as I curl in with
everything pulled in.
I find it
hard to concentrate,
lonely.
In a state of shock,
confused,
numb brain.
Like/want/crave darkness.
Stay in one position, even when painful�
I�m tense
can�t sleep�too jittery with
eyes wide.
Little noises scare.
Withdraw from a
world too big and
act cautiously--
can�t let people know too much,
they don�t listen anyway.
My emotions are fake . . .
people don�t take me seriously
because
they think I am joking.
I think I am joking,
I think my emotions are fake.
This whole feeling is fake�I use it for attention�to make myself look better or special.
Everyone feels this way, they just don�t let it get to them.
It�s normal, I should accept it.
But then . . .

No one pays attention . . .
Would they notice me not here anymore?
Would they care?
They get me open, then have to leave or say nothing more.
They leave me stranded.
I can�t take it when they just seem to go.
What do they want from me?
So scared
of the world,
of nothing in particular.
Can�t tell parents--
they don�t need to hear this--
shouldn�t pull them down,
but why is it right to pull down friends?
They say it is ok and
parents have enough other worries besides me.
I can�t upset them,
they would get mad if I told them--
they wouldn�t understand.
They would not know what to do and would just say don�t do it we love you.
What does that matter?
I don�t know what love is . . .
What is anything anyway?
I fake those feelings.
I think I fake those feelings but I don�t,
but I do,
but my mind is not bad,
it is fine�or is it
crazy?
Can�t ever agree with myself--
am I sure?
Every decision is so important--
don�t screw it up!
If I tell people,
I would be acting as if it mattered as if I did as if I was actually depressed, but I am not,
I know that.
It is attention cravings.
Fake--
me--
fake.
I am cocky,
conceited, and
think this will improve my image but
I�m vain--
I don�t actually think these things.
It�s all made up.
I pretend to feel these things--
I impose them on myself
I could stop it all if I actually tried for once,
but then I would feel like I was covering up the problem, if there was a problem . . . I don�t know if I have a problem�if I have one, I don�t want to just forget about it, I want to do something about it, but maybe I don�t so I should just try to be happy . . .
What is happiness to me?
He asked me
but I don�t understand--
isn�t happiness the same for everyone?
Then I ask questions like that when I know the answers.
I act stupid because it takes less effort than to appear as if I know the answers
I can just say huh? instead of some other response.
I don�t want people to know what is in my head at all�it�s as if
there is something wrong letting them know I know exactly what they are saying . . .
I don�t feel like answering them�it�s a
waste of my time
when I have so little left.
Back home!
Songs of Me
...
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