I think I’m going slightly insane.
I doubt any of this is warranted, but knowing that will surely not stop what’s coming. The monster that will tear my sanity and emotions to shreds, leaving behind a rotten husk of a human being.
There are always certain people who have to go through this. They think differently, and they can never have a home with someone who loves them and a mind with a clear perception of where they want to go. No, it has to be shrouded in words black and twisted and useless, if it’s even there at all.
There’s no use pretending I’m not insane. All can see through my ruse, right?
They never tell me they can. But I think they look at me from a distance, a bomb ready to be dropped and start a nuclear war if the wrong words are said. But surely I don’t have that much impact.
I don’t know my own parents. My peers and teachers are strangers. Literally, but even if they weren’t, they would still feel like strangers.
Strangers. A strange word. That implies that people you do not know are always strange. No, once you open yourself up and talk about trite nonsense, then and only then can you accept them.
What a sham.
I live in an age where I can send letters through paper or bits, where I can see their pictures and thoughts, where their heads can come into my room with a click and a little gray mirror. But all the technology in the world can’t stop me from drifting.
The people I’d talked to, the people I’d fooled myself into thinking I knew, were just people I talked to because I felt more comfortable around them than around others. They’re good people, they really are. But I was never able to talk about anything substantial with them, and I simply talked to them to fill up time and distract myself.
We are in a slow motion race to the ground.