I read my past posts and back then I thought I would get better overtime.
I’m writing this exhausted, beaten down by the world. The same world strips me naked and eventually I don’t even have my own skin to hide behind in.
I want to give up but my stubborn self keeps pushing to go forward, uncaring if what will end up there is only a piece of me that survived the journey.
I see everything with a darkened view, I hear everything filtered through possibly the devil’s mouth and feel everything too cold and too hot.
It’s the rush, I think, that I enjoy. I appreciate the quiet in my life but once in a while I just crave something to get my adrenaline pumping and heartbeat pounding.
I’m possibly the most careful person I know within my family and acquaintances, but there are nights where I drive back home in the darkest hour of the day, fast enough that everything is a blur and I can never tell if that’s the speed I’m going or if it’s me.
Sometimes I hold back these urges for so long that when I give in, by the end of the night I’m hysterically laughing out my window against the wind, feeling like nothing can hurt me.
It’s the excitement, the excitement of having secrets, the excitement of the possibility of destroying myself.
Normally I’ll stay away from this but when I give in, it’s the best feeling in the world.
My town is made up of a bunch of privileged children and adults pretending to understand the rest of the world.