When I think, I think way to hard, I think so much that, thinking is all i think about. I think about how everything is just, just a veil to the real world. I see the world in all that it is. People think that when you die you go to an eternal paradise if you follow a few rules and accept Jesus Christ. But in reality. (that’s the world i live in) When you’re brain stops working. You stop being you. You have no soul. Its just you’re brain and how you think. You just sit in the ground and rot. But if you are lucky enough to be cremated , the 5 pound bag of powder that used to be you can just sit in a box waiting for eternity to end.
I have what I like to call a “third eye”. Before you correct me no i don’t mean the third eye some people have to opportunity to open in they’re life. But my third eye. I can see what it’s like to be another person. I can imagine looking through someones eyes. See what they see. I can only do it for a few seconds though it gives me headaches sometimes. Looking through it, is just a trip. When you live a life like mine. Seeing from a different point of view. It’s just fascinating. You probably don’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe this either
The world that I want. Is not the one I have. I wish everyday to be someone else. But I still wake up every morning. Same body. Same hair. Same bed. Same me. It gets hard after a while. Just standing up every morning. It takes a toll on you. I’m not even in high school yet. I have chronic depression, and anxiety. I was almost raped. I do not think I will ever mentally be prepared for sex. I’ve come close a few times. But I just freak out. The only thing that is really keeping me alive is weed. I love weed. I don’t know what it is about it but i just love it. The smell, the taste, the way it makes you feel. I’m not addicted to it, I just love weed.
Yeah I’m pretty sure a lot of people have it worse than I do. But you don’t know what it’s like to be me. You don’t know what it’s like to be anyone else but yourself. You are you and only you there is nothing after it. I’m not gonna kill myself. I want to but i’m not going to. It’s just to scary to die. I think that i’m gonna die everyday of my life. Every time I get in a car, on the bus, when i’m boarding. Just the idea of death itself terrifies me. Everything scares me really. The world is a scary place.