laurenkealani

I don't know what I want. I don't know who I am. I don't know what the world wants me to be. I can't please everyone around me and still be content with myself. The demons are too strong, and I want to let them take me. I want to give up, curl up, shrivel up. What's the point? I have no one who loves me intimately, no friends I can reveal everything to, no family members I can trust. I just don't see a motivation. For me, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.     Just more              fucking                   darkness.

The thoughts overwhelm my head, I can't focus on anything else. So I run. I run because no one is home, and they won't notice if I'm gone. The air outside is unusually hot and muggy; it takes my breath away. I still push myself. I don't want to keep running, up and down these torturous hills that never end. The muscles in my legs burn, my lungs cry out for oxygen, my heart begs the exertion to cease. But the thoughts keep me going. Thinking to myself: thin, beautiful, healthy, strong. I can earn my necessities this way. I earn my life by slowly killing myself.

I'm at play rehearsal right now, and it's boring as fuuuuuuu......okay, control yourself. I just want to draw and read and drink a Diet Dr. Pepper. Is that so much to ask?