1026

I hate it here, it’s always raining in Vancouver, hostile people, grey skies, boring people, boring places, their boring ways to dress, they all watch and read the same stuff. the lack of conversation topics, people are either extremely alike or completely different. Every day just blends into another, the same house, the same bed, the same wardrobe, the same food, same faces, same breakdowns.
It just have to be me to be born here, into a world that’ll never make me feel complete. I don’t know what I want, and I don’t know what’ll make me happy. There’s too much beauty in the world, I feel like I could drawn. I can’t express myself at all. I wanted to be heard, but I don’t want to make anyone see the world the way I do. I can’t stand being human anymore, I can’t stand the thoughts anymore. My mind is split into little sections, one day I’m this and another day I’m someone completely different, with the same memory, opinions, but different. I hate this one the most, I’ve posted about feeling this way before, it’s almost like I’m seeing everything with the perspective of a stranger, yet I’m myself. Everything feels strange and new, yet old. Oh please, I’d rather give anything of my own up to forget about me.

hypersomnia and depression, hypersomnia and anxiety, hypersomnia and love and joy and beauties and numbness and the lack of joy and the voices and flashing lights.

i don’t want anyone to be in this place, I don’t know what changed that turned me into this way. It’s terrible, torturous. It’s all in my head, why do I think like this? Why do I talk like this?