I feel so alone, like I’m the only person in the world who feels this way, and it doesn’t matter. It’s not important, maybe because I’m not important. Some days I don’t even know why I try. What can I do to be significant? I’m screaming out, doing everything in my power to be heard, yet even silence is louder than my screams. What can I do to be heard, other than tear down my world, break apart my life, die? Sometimes I wonder whether or not I’m becoming more alive or dying, sometimes I wonder if there is a difference. The pain never leaves. It never disappears. It never dies, it never fades, it never lets up. The more I try to forget the more it hurts, the more I try to move on the further I fall back. Desperation is worse than frustration, is living worse than dying? Is screaming worse than crying? The desire to destroy overwhelms me. If I break apart the world around me, maybe the world inside will feel more in tact, maybe it’s just relative. If I create chaos in my environment, my inner world will be more at peace, even though it’s all the same. The ridiculousness of this all is taking over. Why I’m feeling this way means nothing, I am, but it doesn’t matter. I just want someone to think I’m not crazy, someone to understand and to listen to me and not get angry that I’m not content, because I’m not. I’m not happy. It’s the same lie I’ve been telling all my life, the same lie even I started to believe. It doesn’t make a difference whether or not it’s true anyway, as long as I feel like it’s true, I feel alive. But I don’t feel alive. I feel like I’m trapped in a world that doesn’t want me, in a world where I’m so completely different that I can’t ever fit in or be understood. That’s where there’s loneliness, when I realize that I’ve become so different, I’ll never be understood. I can scream as loud as I want, but the screams will always fade because no one knows how to listen, and I have no idea how to show them.
Author Unknown
