Vulnerable

It's like, I either feel an emotion stronger than I should, or I don't feel anything at all. And here's the thing, I feel happiness stronger than I should too, which essentially means I only feel happy when I'm euphoric, because regular happiness doesn't feel like anything. If it's there, it's exceptionally hard for me to identify it, and I end up just feeling sort of weird?

It makes me come off as unappreciative or disinterested even when I want or enjoy something, and I feel like it's something that needs to be talked about more.

I've had a lot of interactions where in the end the person I was with seemed uncomfortable, because I came off as cold or bored or annoyed, even though I was enjoying the interaction.

Just one of the many things that have caused me to miss out on life.

I’m a motherfucking stargirl

High off the way you speak

Submerging me

Can't think, think, think

It's only you

I have GOT to get more NORMAL

I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want to be here

And when you're tired, think of me

And when the world is all dark and bad dreams, think of me

And when you can't talk, can't walk, think of me

And when the air gets thick and your lungs get twisted, think of me

And when you're lonely, think of me

I'll be there

It's like, I see people on tumblr and insta and tiktok crying their eyes out about how miserable they are, sharing their traumas so openly.

And I feel bad for them, I do. But then this small, cruel part of me thinks, "they don't know how easy they have it."

I look at their rooms, their clothes, their faces, their art, their talents and recoil in jealousy. And I really do feel bad for them! I hate seeing other people in pain!

But damn I wish I had a room decorated that nicely. I wish I had clothes that cool and a real sense of fashion. I wish I were prettier. I wish I could be proud of the things I create and the things I do.

I'm pathetic, right?