My Mask

Life sucks. Really, truly, freaking sucks.

And if it doesn’t for you, I seriously envy you and may want to kill you. (Just a little.) Or at least make it suck, just a little.

I have friends. I have enemies.

I have people who won’t talk to me, I have people who talk behind my back, and I have people who will just barely nod at me, or maybe give a rare, “Hey.”

I have a few good friends, and maybe, maybe one or two that I really talk to.

And that one or two, they don’t know a damn thing, cause I just don’t talk that much. Well, I do talk (a freaking LOT, according to some people), but it’s mostly just stupid stuff. Conversations are hardly ever really meaningful with me. Mostly because I feel like I give up too much information if it a conversation gets serious.

I seem like a really outgoing person. I get into stuff. I wear stuff that makes me stand out. I don’t pretend to be part of the background.

I’ve just really made this great big shell. Or wall. Or something. I know exactly how quickly people who you thought were friends can turn on you.

I know what heartbreak is. I know what true despair is. I even know how to keep a smile on my face when I’m screaming inside, or being shredded apart.

In short, I’m much more complex than I appear. And if you didn’t know me before the bright, printed shirts and smiles, you wouldn’t know.

Cause I’m just that good at acting. It takes years of practice, but I got it down pat. It’s actually easy to plaster on a bright smile now, when I get two hours of sleep a night, when I have horrible nightmares that come from no where. Smiles are easy. Sometimes it surprises me that no one sees through them, but sometimes it doesn’t.

I’ve distanced myself from people. From feeling. And I seriously know that I have. And I know it’s not good. In fact, I know it’s really bad.

I’m sick of pretending. My mask has cracked. And is falling to pieces.

Slipping Away

Well, if there’s one thing that can be said about all people it’s that no one wants to hear something’s wrong with them. It’s common knowledge, wrong = bad. Lately..I’ve been feeling less in control than usual. I know, I know..no one’s REALLY in control of anything, but shouldn’t I be in (somewhat?) control of my thoughts and feelings? It kind of feels like I’m not really ME anymore, it’s kind of hard to explain. I know that sounds weird, “You’re you but not you? Um…?” and is a bit confusing, but that’s my current feeling on life right now. Something’s not right, and I’m not quite sure what’s wrong, maybe it’s just me or maybe it’s everyone.
I feel like part of me is slipping away…my creative part to be exact. Every time I draw or write something it seems I’m correctly it about a thousand times over. It used to be: I would write/draw something and that was that, I didn’t have to go back and “fix” everything little thing about it, until it became something else entirely.

So, what else is up with me besides my mental state going to ruins? Well, nothing much actually. My life is pretty damn boring it seems. I mean, all I did yesterday was READ when I got home, I didn’t bother to answer anyone’s texts or anything…speaking of which! TEXTING! Why does every single person have to text?! Whatever happened to just plain old phone calls? Or talking face-to-face? Our versions of contact with people have completely changed in the last like five years, and to tell you the truth I’d rather actually talk to someone then text..you lose all emotion in text! Oh, yes I know..you have emoticons and actions and stuff, but it’s really not the same.