who?

I need to get out of here, but where can I go? I can’t have a mental breakdown in public, I can’t sit out in the cold, home is the worst, I can’t go home. I can’t finish a sentence. Nothing is removable, I can’t break anything, noises noises noises noises noises, I need to go somewhere, but there are too many things to take, a leaking box, for God’s sake. I’d rather crack my glasses in half. Bathroom. An Asian girl, curled bangs, tinted lips, stood and stood fixing her bangs like the way I did mine, walk half way to the door then back again, snap a mirror selfie, then with her mask down, smiled at me, an obnoxious smile, what was she smiling at? I don’t have a hammer in hand. I won’t do anything. I never do anything. The white girl behind me, self proclaimed “petite”, she just haven’t grown out yet, a fake ginger. She loves the sound of her own voice, ramble ramble ramble ramble “island hopping”, ramble ramble “and…followers…” teenage boyfriends “are we supposed to do this part too” “wait I don’t get it”, my tablemate is back, the white girl won’t stop rambling, who knows if they know I’m here. I need to get out of here.

Two mentally challenged childre walked in the door, black jumpsuit, I scared them, one screamed one laughed, I don’t feel well. Cantonese behind me now, I need to be home, no reason for this to happen. I don’t know why I’m like this. Two days ago I woke up from a nap freezing under two layers of blankets, then I stopped feeling well. “No shit” white men in puffer jackets, family gathering around a table, Cantonese, I don’t understand, pop music, I’m better. Grounded into powder, more white teens. Cologne, of course a fast food restaurant gets loud during lunch time. At least my brain isn’t itching. Common derealization, I don’t care. Soaked papers, I don’t care. Crying spells never mattered. Self diagnosed psychosis, I like being out of it. There’s nothing wrong with me, I just want to leave a crowded room, just like everyone else. Walking shoe on on faux leather couch, I can either keep typing or stare at the table like I’ve been doing for the first hour. My legs are itching. Teenagers screaming like jungle animals, I don’t know. I forgot what I wanted to say. I’ve never heard people say they want to have sex in public. Why are white teens like that? I forgot what I wanted to say, my brain is o full. Hopefully it stays this way, I hate total blankness. Hair loss, unhealthy, thin, light, static hair. I can’t even cover my full shoulder with it, a gap on the back of my neck. The Japanese are aroused by the nape of the neck, I don’t look good right now. I need to keep talking. I don’t think I know how to speak English anymore, neither do I the other language. Apparently ramble means taking a walk, but I thought it’s about talking. The song keeps saying “I want you to ruin my life”, “come back to me”, “all my nights”. Everything is polluted then. It is definitely derealization, I don’t know if I still feel myself, but it’s gotten so common I can’t distinguish it at all. This is the first time I’ve missed a class of photography, the first time I mentioned I’m a student on this site too. Next page. In the summer or 2017 or 2018, she kept yelling at me, of course it’s an argument and I was definitely not on the defensive, I don’t know, I can’t remember, I need to write them down. I wanted to open the car door and run out, it was the countryside, nothing more than yellow dirt, I should have ran. I’ve only succeeded once, actually, twice, but once I walked to my destination, the other, she said she’ll call the police if I run away. I don’t need to talk about it. I should have kept running. I was in elementary, or eighth grade? The word eighth looks so strange. It’s quieter now. I’ve talked about it on so many posts but there’s a glitch on this site and no one can view other people’s past posts through their profile, right? My fingers are going quicker than my thinking speed.  Summer there is so humid, so, so hot. I shouldn’t have gotten tan in that art academy, I was a guest more than a student, while they sat out in the sun I should have stayed in the air conditioned office, a text message ended my thoughts. How good of a kid I was, my thighs have never sweated before, sitting out taking “group photos” with them, I’ve never been out in the sun for so long, i was soaked, even my ankles were sweating, I’ve never sweated that much in my life before. I even thanked the teacher for the water he handed out in the group chat, how good of a student I was, although I should have stayed in the classroom. Theres never enough days to live like a porcelain doll. I didn’t remember. I tried to run out of the apartment, but mom said if I left I won’t be allowed back again, I ran anyways, or was that another time? I can’t remember at all. It was so hot. Broken bricks and all, abandoned playground behind the buildings, I didn’t know. I can’t draw. The diet is working. I’m stuck outside