Dear Diary: Putting a face to the world

Things are not always as they seem. I can pretend again, I guess the drugs work, I can pass off as better, doing well, coping and all that stuff thats really important for the people around you to stop worrying about you.

I only smiling on the outside. The days roll by, mostly a blur of tiredness and air. Achieving isnt something that happens, messing up is something I am good at, self destruction, less so, more just making things messy and hurting people, too much of a coward to hurt myself.

A pile of distractions and things I could do, but there is no point, it leads to nothing, nothing to get up for today, nothing tomorrow, draining away at the people around me, killing them slowly inside and out.

I don’t know how this works, who am I, nothing, nothing but shadows and dust, too scared to be anyone, or anything, I know what I feel, but I know that person can never live without ridicule and hate, sniggers and finger pointing, who am I, I dont know. What am I not? Not who I was, or am supposed to have been.

I don’t want this life anymore. The pretending to pretend; I’m not part of the game now, I want off the board. Scared of today and petrified of tomorrow.

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