How I was feeling circa 2020
She sat there, wondering what she could write. Oh to write, she wanted to so badly. She thinks she has a remarkable brain. She believes herself. Moreover, she believes what’s in her head. She believes what she thinks is true. However, it’s a curse. To be so sure of yourself. You let yourself down time and time again for thinking so sure of you. You know who you are, you know who you’re supposed to be. Consequently showing off for others, pretending for them, so that they feel comfortable. If they only knew what was actually on your mind.
She often thinks the worst of everyone else. Doubts them, their intentions, their words, their future. She thinks the worst of the world actually. Nothing is easy, everything is masked in this veil of optimism. This fucking fad. Go day to day in routine, follow the social norms, and just simply exist in a bubble of innate delusion. There is no hope. We are all doomed to die. She imagines death, a lot. Particularly, she thinks of when her mother will die, her father, her husband. All of her loved ones she will have to live without when that day comes. The pain that she will experience when that day comes. That pain she wouldn’t want anyone else to feel.
She is sad. She hurts in her heart a lot more than people know. Because she experienced much sorrow at a young age. She wonders how crazy she actually is. When she feels crazy, she denies it. She could be worse off you know? She could be on drugs like some. Specifically she could be an alcoholic like her dad. She could be suicidal. She could be depressed. But she’s not. Yet she’s always afraid of the possibility.
Therefore she wonders, why isn’t she like that? How come she’s not that bad off? Is she just strong? Does she hide under a façade? No. She knows she is strong. It has always been within her. Whether she had to be strong or if her toughness was with her at birth. She knows. At least she can be sure about something.
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