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Is it wrong to think I finally know it when I’ve spent so much time knowing nothing at all?



Dec 14, 2019
I know I’m lost. I know I’m lost because I can’t find a way back to where I was before, and I know I’m helplessly lost because I don’t even know where I was in the first place.

I know it hurts. It hurts more than a wound, broken bone, or that time when I felt on my face and everyone looked scared and doubting about approaching me or getting some help first.

I know it’s different this time. I know this time I can’t blame the weather, or the moon; there’s no one against me; there’s no one trying to make me look like a fool.

I know it’s not them. I know it’s not the mean kids with family issues that made me feel inadequate for talking alone at school; I know it’s not my parents worry for those important things that I learnt were important when I was still young, and neither the fault of those strangers that in later years called me sister and had their own problems to put above.

I know it’s me. I know everything around me seems confusing, blurry and even embarrassing, but isn’t that all I am?

I’ve spent so much time alone, feeling sorry about myself; guilty for that self-compassion that I don’t think I deserve. I’ve been mad, so angry, choleric for those useless feelings, and then guilty again for putting on a spotlight all of the things that are wrong with me.

But there’s more, there’s always more, and perhaps that’s the reason I keep forgetting things. The reason why I get lost in a conversation, activity or self-reflection; the reason why reality is distorted and suddenly I’m scared of everything.

Isn’t that who I am?
Then, why do I feel so desperate?
Why do I keep trying to make some sense when there’s none?

Shouldn’t I feel euphoric!????

Yes,Like that time!

I was looking outside and everything looked so wonderful. There was so much beauty in every little thing, and that incredible song that played in the background made feel as if the cracks in the pediment where there just for me.

The sunsets and the sunrises wanted me to smile and the blooming flowers were asking me to dance.

Yes, I remember that. I remember that was “wonderful,” but I also remember hearing a cashier in a restaurant saying “I’m wonderful, what are you getting today?” and thinking that the word “wonderful” was full of lies.

Because if someone can say being “wonderful” in such a reckless way, one should be cautious of the real feeling behind.

So, am I lying this time?
And if not, why can’t this be one?
If I’m lying about this, is there really not a way out?
Would I be able to tell if there’s one?

Am I loosing my mind?
And If I am, what’s so wrong about that?

I’ve been told there’s no way to know if I’ve done it or not, but if I’m not then tell me;
who’s being pulling the strings of my tired being?
Who’s being consuming the leftovers of my empty soul?
Who’s hate has ripped me off?

I know it has to be me.


Active member
Dec 12, 2019
I don't think there is anything wrong. I think you're able to be a writer, exploring states of being based on your own.