grahhh

Grahhhhhhhhh

Grahhhhhhhhh

Grahhhhhhh


I am alive, I am alive, I am alive, I am alive. Have I just been tricking myself and the world into thinking I am the person I want to be seen as? Sometimes I feel like a stranger to myself. I feel like I have done an expert job at convincing the world I am a better person than I am. I just want to be seen, that's all I've ever wanted. How can I ever be seen if I am constructing this facade? This thin bullshit facade. Do I stoop to the level of person I think of myself as in these moments? Do I try to live up to the image I have tried so hard to curate? Why do I fucking care so God damn much? Why do I think about myself all the God damn time? Why can't I stop? Why can't I Just commit myself to something or someone and just be done with it? Just stop fucking searching. I'm so tired of searching. Sometimes I think that I am blessed with the ability to search. I didn't have to go to the mines at 15 and never think about myself until I am six feet under. Then other times, times like these, I see it as a curse; if I don't search I am squandering what this world has given me, if I do search I am forever condemned to a feeling of inadequacy. We all just want peace. I keep myself sane and alive by believing that most people, at least at this age, are riddled with the same insecurities that I am. I will never try to find out though. I get to live in the abstraction of belief. The moment I find out that I am the only one who is self-flagellating until I can't even engage in a conversation due to my feelings of inauthenticity is the moment I lose it all. Lose my sense of belonging. Lose my subjugation of individuality. Lose any belief that I can connect to another human being. I engage with certain friends with these feelings with the strong hope that they also grapple with these feelings, and they do, and it helps to talk and engage with them. I get to leave the prison of my mind. It's especially a treat when I talk to someone who grapples with these feelings and they are happy. As life-saving as commiserating can be, it just feels like more self-punishment. Oo but talking to someone who is happy and shares the same feelings that I do is like straight fucking dopamine into my brain. I think I'm unstoppable, that there is nothing in this world that cannot be overcome. That's my peace.

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