Posted at 1:18 AM 0 comments (+) ----

I'm screaming out so loud but I feel like nobody can hear me. Or maybe, more of they don't care to hear me.
I'm bending under the weight of my fatigue but nobody sees it. Or rather, they see me and they look away, unconcerned.
I'm falling silent, keeping the words of spite and unhappiness to myself but nobody notices. Nobody has the time to notice or the patience to reach out.

When someone does though, reach out, I shove them right back onto their own track with well-practiced, natural lies. So natural they don't even feel like lies anymore, just lines.
"How are you?"
"I'm good, same old. What've you been up to?"

I'm screaming for anyone to know that I'm.... having a hard time but I hate the attention they might give me when they get worried. So when someone does ask me, I say it's nothing much. Sometimes it's because the person asking is not someone I feel comfortable with sharing. Sometimes it's because when I talk about it, I do feel like it's nothing much.

But it's not. I know it's not.

It's difficult to explain, I'm not about to try. If anyone asks, I'll just tell them I'm being dramatic again. And I am also half convinced that I am.

Sometimes I wished that I truly had nobody who gave a shit about my existence, so I can legit wail about my aloneness without unintentionally offending friends who've tried their best to fix me.
Sometimes I wished some twisted shit happened to me, some bizarre incurable illness, an accident, so I can legit be fucking sad without seeming to be melodramatic about nothing.
You know something, so many people around me has their health failing on them, and it's not a case of a simple flu. So many people around me are sick or are getting sick and here I am, completely unscathed and alive. Healthy.

And to me, this is the most cruel thing that the world can conspire against me.