And I cry

The world is too good for me.

The people around me are great and have great perception.

While all I can do is rant about it. Just running away from things that scare me. And blame it all on my depression. Ahh. I’m so filthy. I feel envy and pride crashing me down. I wish for the things that are impossible for me.

“Keep moving forward.” I always have trouble trying to do what was said. Even my shrink suggested I should try to close that chapter and move on.

The world is too fast for me.

I’m just starting to get to know myself but college isn’t really the best time to do all that. Expectations rise just because of my appearance. When I had a panic attack, I bet I didn’t meet their expectations. I felt my own pride struggling my neck.

“Just die already. You suck. You don’t matter anyway.” are the letters I made for myself. I had a panic attack again. I must have been seen as a pathetic brat. I’m drowning on my own failed expectations to myself.

Drowning. I reached for my neck and squeezed it. Chocking. I cried. I gasped for air. I beg for change. But I knelt down before death instead. But quickly ran away after. I am a coward.

I feel empty. My head feels so empty that I would rather put a bullet in it.

Give me insanity and I’ll like it. Feeling helpless is so much better than the emptiness. The emptiness I must fill with pain. So, I cut. I bleed. It’s beautiful. These pain and tears are so much better than this emptiness.

I am an empty shell. Crammed by other people’s ideas and beliefs. How would I know which is my own? Who am I? Won’t anyone tell me? Am I you? Are you me? Are we all just one another?

Who am I? I question myself everyday. Am I really living? Why do I forget things easily. Why do I build relationships on my own convenience? Hate me. Deny me. Kill me. Maybe I’ll finally understand my own being.