I got two things talk about today... One a little depressing and the other not so much.
Well, reading the fic i had read ages ago, again has brought back an abundance of joy. Maybe cause my heart remembers the soaring joy I felt whenever I read it or maybe.. cause I'm tired enough of my present and the lack of a visible good future that i have now reverted back to the only sources of joy.
I wouldn't know, i like to believe it's not the latter.
But the depressing aspect comes in later, when i sit and read, all the y/n's, all the comments, all the commenters, i am afraid I am not me.
I am afraid that when I was the most desperate, hanging on by a thread, I took in everything I wanted. I became everything I liked. My humour, my style, my likes, my dislikes, all of them belong to someone else.
I am afraid that if I were to break into thousand pieces none of them would be mine. One from her the other from him.
(To be pondered over)
YOU ARE READING
Just Me Ranting
Non-Fictiondon't read it lmao, it just felt calming to post it as a book or whatever. TW if your sorry ass is reading this, mentions of su!c!dal thoughts and self h@rm.
