w r e c k a g e ✓

the wreckage of his solidity

❝He has nothing going on in his life to be sad about. All he wants is attention. It's always about attention nowadays.❞

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HE DIDN'T ENJOY the presence of people very much. He felt caged. He couldn't do or say anything without offending someone. He couldn't be himself without annoying someone. It was the little things.

He pretended though. He pretended it was all good and went along with it.

He was the one everyone went to with their problems. Yet the people who came to him with their problems were the same people who treated him like shit and didn't even know it.

He gave everyone his own time of day.

He tried to be the person everyone could rely on.

He faked a smile and laughed and added on and agreed towards the things they said even though he knew what they were saying just wasn't right.

Yet, he was just too kind to correct them.

Too scared.

Too scared because he didn't want them to feel bad about themselves the way that he felt all the damn time. And if he were to correct them now they would use everything against him and call him a hypocrite because he had agreed to every judgmental thing they had said before.

They wouldn't believe him if he said he was just lying. They wouldn't believe him if he said that he just didn't want them to feel bad about themselves.

That's how society is, they hear what they want to hear, they believe what they want to believe, they deny what they want to deny − because they want to at least think that they are all good people, that they aren't all like everyone else.

He tried, he tried so hard to please everyone. It was stupid though. He was protecting people who said awful things when he should have been protecting the people being talked about.

He added on to what they said, but he was lying. Still, he realized he really was being a hypocrite either way. He knew what it was like to be treated poorly and he was somewhat doing the same.

Good people don't deserve such terrible messes.

And he was a terrible mess.

Deep down he was good at the heart.

He really was.

But a mess nonetheless.

He tries, he tries to tell them that what they're saying is wrong. They get defensive, saying, "But you were laughing!"

He may have been laughing, but he didn't truly think that what they said was funny. He may have added on, but he didn't truly agree with what they said.

He was actually offended.

Again, he just didn't want them to feel bad about themselves. So he couldn't say anything more, because they would just come back at him, because it seemed that they knew him better than himself.

Which was actually not the case.

He knew himself better than everyone else, but it was apparent that everyone else had him figured out. They didn't though, but he let them think so.

He goes home and he screams endlessly at nothing. At himself. Nothing.

He questions would the people whom he lost be proud of him? If they were looking down on him now were they shaking their heads?

He goes through everything he does wrong and he goes through everything he's going to next time do right. But then he's right back to being where he was before once surrounded by those people again.

A hypocrite.

And then he's back to clear thinking and being his true self when he's alone.

That was the thing. He could be himself when he was alone. He didn't have to worry about people getting mad at him for just being himself. He didn't have to worry about all the bad stuff happening in his life. And believe him when he says that he has bad stuff going on in his life. He didn't have to worry about being sucked back into those god awful conversations filled with things that shouldn't be said. He could just be free. Be free to think. And not manipulated or fooled.

He could lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He could lay in the grass and stare at the sky. He could be something without being scared. He didn't have to be nothing. He could be creative. He could say smart things. He could be someone he's never let anyone see up close. He could be himself when he's alone and only alone.

He liked controlled happiness.

He could take care of his own problems.

He could enjoy things in his own ways

He could be sad and not get told that he shouldn't be.