Captain's log [1997]

I don't agree with the things I say. I say them so others will agree with me.

I don't believe in the things I do. I just do them so others will believe in me.

I exist in lies. In contradictions. In passive aggressiveness and blatant hatred of the world. All because I feel like the world hates me back.

I am 27. Yet I feel like I'm 80. My heart still feels like when I was 5 and experienced my first heartbreak. And my brain is stuck on 17. Scared. Stuck. Stupid 17.

Just a few hours a ago, someone I knew born in 1997 just celebrated their birthday. They presented themselves as happy. Kept repeating they're 28 with much gusto. And I... Well... Here I am, dreading the day I turn 28.

I'm nobody yet. People 5 years younger than me are somebodies now. I am surrounded by people younger than me. And I am a nobody yet.

I am confused. Once again, scared. Inspired but overcome with fear and intimidation.

Tomorrow is Monday. I want to leave my workplace. It sucks the living soul out of me. The people are terrible too. Just like me. They're terrible too.

I hope my fear now is something I'm gonna laugh about when I'm 40. Like how I used to laugh at myself for being too scread about being 18. And 20. And 25.

I've only said I'm 27 a few times this year. For some reason I already feel like it was slipping away fast even before I am halfway to the finish line.

I'm something short of a father crying...

I'm something short of someone admitting guilt...

I'm something short of an old dog with no food tomorrow...

I'm something short of someone dying but not yet..

I'm something short of a poet who fell out of love...

I'm something short of a volcano causing all the tremble we do not feel until its too late...