me in real life: a silent mystery
me on the internet: ask me anything I love oversharing im so alive
me in real life: a silent mystery
me on the internet: ask me anything I love oversharing im so alive
someone please come pick me up and drive around all night with me just listening to music and talking about life
I always feel like I’m struggling to become someone else. LIke I’m trying to find a new place, grab hold of a new life, a new personality. I guess it’s part of growing up, yet it’s also an attempt to reinvent myself. By becoming a different me, I could free myself of everything. I seriously believed I could escape myself - as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I’m still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I guess that lack itself is as close as I’ll come to defining myself.
Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.
I don’t get why I continuously get fucked over and treated like shit by people I am nothing but nice to. if you don’t have good intentions please just stay away from me. I’m tired.
