My mind is hard to manage. It has a hard time deciding if life is good or bad. It's never in a state of balance. It chooses a side and it stays there for a while. Right now it's depressive, unpleasant, and painful. It keeps telling me I'm a sort of slow poison. That I'm disappointing. That I'm not someone people should be around. I have this urge to hide away. To be unseen. To be un-known. To be un-feeling.  I have gotten really good at showing people that I'm good. That I'm always good. A seamless cut between my insides and the outside. It makes me feel nauseous a lot of the time. It's not socially acceptable to be sad all the time yet I can be. No one knows me. No one gets me, and that makes me the loneliest person in the world. 

I have not written anything in a while. I have not had the energy to. I have been feeling betrayed, not by anyone specific, but I guess just the world. It sounds overly dramatic but I have been having a hard time coping with how terrible people in this world can be.  I feel that the concept of merit is only afforded to people in power. People love to love people that can elevate them. In this world somebody like me has no power. Therefore somebody like me will always be, and will always feel alone.

No one knows me. No one thinks I am important enough to keep in their lives. I grow bitter each day. I get waves of the past reminding me how much neglect I actually faced growing up and am currently facing. There's been a lot of things that have surfaced that made me realize that I really have no one else in this world but myself. I need to create a life where I don't need to rely on anyone. Bonds mean nothing because no one is selfless. Everything is an act of self interest. I need to be more selfish to protect myself. 

I feel like I see people as a collection of patterns–like something to figure out. It's hard for me to hold onto patterns when I can expect what's coming. When there's no depth. I don't know, It just drains me to know that I'll be listening to the same music and following the same routine. I end up removing myself. The wood structure falls and I rebuild. 

I find myself always chasing for something. Chasing for meaning. I'm always in movement. I wonder if I'll ever feel the kind of relief that just puts everything to a halt. 

One and Two. The birds start chirping. That look in their eyes. Contentment. Love? The look when they admire — the look of a lover. A drowsy trance, a glance away from a dream-like state. As if they’re reading lullabies, songs inscribed along the surface of their soul. Soulmates? One and Two. Rhythm. Melody. Harmony. “Check, one, two.” You look at them. “Testing, one, two, three.” A subtle smile. They look content. The content. The content of a blissful life. A drop of sunshine — fleeting. Then the squawking. One, two, three. Then they look at you. One and Two. “What?” Three: “Nothing.”