Angry ....i guess
I’m angry, angry at myself. Angry because I never learn, because I never grow. (even though some keep saying that I’m very mature. Not in my eyes, for me, as I see it right now, I’m still a child. A child that rejoices in living in castles made of nothing, embellished with dreams, and lightened by ignorance and naivety. My heart is aching, and I don’t even know why. I’m here, I’m trying to accommodate to them, to their expectations, but it’s not working. You know, I just want to know what going to happen. What’s out there for me. I’m tired of waiting, of dreaming awake, of asking, of looking, of thinking. That’s the worse, my thinking. My thinking that plays with me even though I promise myself again and again that I won’t allow that anymore. It’s always there, it always comes back to hunt me and my little heart. I want to hide in a corner, hide from the world, from him, from her, from them, and especially from you. I keep asking myself if it was because I didn’t say enough or because I said too much. If I left you too early, or if I bored you with my hello’s. Did I miss a chance for conversation? Who cares? I don’t, it is obvious that you don’t. That’s fine. Why am I so angry, if I don’t even know you? Who are you? Where are you? What’s your name? I don’t understand myself. Just give me a corner where I can wipe my tears without you knowing, a place where the world won’t notice my cry. Where I can’t be afraid of you or your friends finding me. I’ll be fine…..I know I’ll be fine. …..
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