Filling the Blanks

I love the anonymity that's place offers me because I want to scream and shout as I hold back the tears in real life and call my friends and tell them to comfort me but how can I ask those already weary to give me anything? How can I tell them the same thing I've been telling them for the last decade? I can't. So I pour my heart out here where no one sees where no one knows me where somebody might just stumble on it because I'm tired to talking to myself in the journals I keep. I want to talk about this feeling I have in my bones that I will die alone feeling unloved and hating everyone for their happiness for getting what I didn't have, never had. For the unfairness of it all and the way this stupid universe works because of course not everyone finds their happiness and some people die miserable only why did I have to be one of those to die miserable? I talk as if my life is over and it's like knowing how a sort ends but not being able to change it except in your own head. Why I am so goddamn fascinated by time travel.

It's been days since I did anything but eat and sleep and drown myself in make-believe, trying to run away from the reality of me and who I am and the disgust I feel. I've been trying and failing at righting, picking myself up enough to walk the laid out path but I keep losing it. Someday I walk around like the blind not really seeing anything, not really noticing when dark turns to light and then goes dark again. The minutes turn to hours and thoughts never become action and it's too late now, I better go to bed, it's a new day tomorrow, maybe then we can try again.

all these ‘desi’ girls and guys on tumblr be like “we so brown, we so desi, we be authorities on ‘desi’ culture” sitting somewhere NOT desi, holding on to a culture that has changed since their ancestors left desi land..