delusional illusion

Sometimes I like to write down my thoughts. Other times I just realize that the thoughts I write down on this page are never gonna be seen by people that actually know me. People that may have actual concern for me. You. If you’re reading this. If anyone is reading this. You’ll probably never know what I look like. Something seems a little intimate about that. You know some of the thoughts running through my head that not even people closest to me know about.

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Life is strange.

Sometimes I do think about death. But not suicide. I think about how anyone dying can cause such a chain reaction in everyone’s lives.

I think about how whenever I die, so many people will talk about how I was great and I was wonderful.

Little do they know, I hate most of them.

These hypocritical bigots that think they have a right to tell people they miss me.

I don’t know if even I’ll miss me.

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If I die.

Would you miss me?

People ask me if I’m okay. And honestly I don’t know how to answer this question. I fill my life with countless things, constantly distracting my mind. When I get a minute to myself I don’t know how I feel. To answer truthfully. I don’t know if I’m okay. It feels weird not knowing because I think I’m okay but something I think I’m not. Will I be on this constant seesaw of okay and not okay?

I want to be okay.

I think I’m okay.

I’m just tired that’s all.

Do you miss me?

Because I miss you.

The idea of being alone haunts me. Like I need to make sure I’m never left alone with the thoughts that I’ve so maticulously locked away.

I spend some time alone and awake, the thoughts are trying to escape and I can’t control the emotions I feel.

I don’t want to feel

I want to just do what I have to do and move on with my life. Yet there’s always something.

I’m scared of being alone and people forgetting me, the way I’ve forgotten so many before in order to make sure I wasn’t hurt first.

I walk around with these walls so high up covered with smiles to make everyone believe that my joy goes straight to my core.

It’s dark in there. Even I can’t see what goes on behind the wall.

I’m scared