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I keep saying

by Dungeon

I want to go home
But I don’t know what that means.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt whole,
not in the sense where I’m emotionally stable, but more of who I am-
whether it’s the voice in my head
the morals/principles I follow, or the me who exists to everyone else etc.
I want closure. I want to be able to say “this is what I want”
But I dont know what I want. I say I want to die, but I don’t know what that means either.
I feel empty, as cliche as it gets. But I truly feel like there’s nothing there.
Friends, lovers, family. I care about them, I really do, but It’s gotten so hard to deal with any now.
I’m a piece of garbage, they’ve all supported me for such a long time but I do nothing but give them a facade that I grown so tired of.
I don’t know why I make these posts, is it because I want people to see them, do I just want attention?
Is it because I want my words to exist, to be heard, just so I feel like I’m a part of this world?
Maybe I’m just being a silent romantic. A self reading writer, a poet for myself.
But every time I re-read these I just feel disgusting. These feel like my emotions now but the next day it reminds me of being like an edgy teen, desperately screaming “im hurt”.
but I don’t feel hurt, I feel tired. So so tired. I don’t want to sleep, I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to do anything.
I go out sometimes doing social things to make it feel like I’m trying. Nothing has changed. I’ve walked this line of stagnation ever since I was a teen.
My emotions were chaos and I felt like a body of water being raged by a storm. I’m sure thats why I feel so numb now, everything is probably being pushed into my subconscious so I don’t literally go insane.
Maybe I am already psychotic, maybe I’m too blind to see myself anymore.
I wish I had something like that “best friend type/kindred spirit”, that one person you had no matter what.
But I’ve never been the “favorite person type”. Im too much of a mess.
Even now I can’t even stand talking to myself. Nothing makes sense to me anymore.
Where do I go, who do I be, and who am I doing it for.
Questions I don’t even want to answer.
I want a purpose I guess, something only I want, something that puts me together.
I used to think falling in love with someone was just that, but now I know that was me trying to ignore the real problems.
Just a heavily felt distraction. A part of me wishes those around me knew that these are my realest thoughts, but I also know when someone finds them they make me feel the worst that I can.
I’m so sorry to those who suffer from me, that have to deal with me. I’m sorry I can’t pretend anymore. I’m sorry I don’t want to try anymore.
I really wish I wasn’t me, I wish I could’ve been a “me” that I actually wanted to be.
But again, I don’t know what I want.
I just want to go home.
Whatever that means.

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