I feel out of place in my own skin. I hide behind the mask of a face of a person I’m not. I bear the emotions of someone in the past. It’s all just one big facade. One giant ruse. I want to die, but I’m too young, too volatile to die yet. I guess the kid deserves more than for this empty soul to take his life. I mean, he does his best, he means well, but ever since the day she left him, he’s been different. Oh well, I tried and so did he, I guess.
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I’m not sure what you mean by the part about “the kid,” but what you wrote previous to that… it’s the same for me. I definitely don’t feel like what people seem to see when they look at me. Apparently I look younger than I am, but I feel old and world-weary, as if I were reincarnated many times and this is just another one of my lifetimes. (Not that I believe in reincarnation.)
However, I’ll look back on myself at this age when I’m older (if I live) and I’ll think, “Oh, I was still young and uninformed then! I feel as though I’m more enlightened now. My horizons of thought have definitely broadened and I feel like I have more knowledge.”
Ah well, it’s a continual process throughout life. “Growing up” doesn’t end until you’re dead.