2:02 am, it's this part of the night when i start to see things. for example, in the corner of my eyes right now i see a black mass, but it is really just the air vent. that's not what this schizophrenia says though. no, in this shit disorder everything's a fucking monster. even me a girl with no nails that wears band tees. now here we go with the fairy lights above my bed, i'm looking at them in fascination like i've never seen them before. so many things race through my head. pointless writing ideas and conversations i say i'll write down the next morning, but i never end up doing so. before i know it the minute hand has made it to 2:24 am, and i'm asleep. if i was, in fact, asleep though how did i know? truth is i don't, but i a wake up to another day to breath inside this decaying body of mine, so i assume i must've fallen asleep. when morning comes i am supposed to become normal again, but that's for another time. i enjoy being lost, not in control, just instructed. then there are times when i want to fly solo in this life and into the next. my bipolar thoughts, why? i contradict. when i was just five i sketched out my dream house and said i didn't need a man. if i could write a letter back to her, to me. that little girl filled with so much hope and happiness and pride, which i still possess, but can not fully accept. no one can forever live complete oblivion. back to my lack of desire for independence. if i was told. if i wasn't so damn defiant. if i was programmed i wouldn't be.......me. although, lately i'm not sure if i'm even worth it anymore. my brain at least. if that part was redone in the womb it'd be fine. the truth is though: it's not. me, he, she who? maybe, yes, the devil has come early tonight.
A/N: I might be ending this book or going on a hiatus for it soon. I don't know if anyone actually REALLY likes these. I only love a few, but anyway till next time.
YOU ARE READING
my personal essays
Non-Fictionyou may say you know me, but you really don't know me. ©writingxfreak
