#just cuz its ME but u know what mabye i cant say anything abt it and feel heard but im gonna fucking say it because

[thestarsshone]

i think that the fear of being know is the fear of being forgetten and left behind and discarded and treated like you are nothing like you’re the tissue to blow the nose with or you’re the garbage can a street back that someone could circle round to toss something into you but never think about you again. and if you are known it confirms that you exist. you have meant something to someone, even if it is nothing it doesn’t feel like you owe them nothing, it feels like you owe them a passing glance, a smile or something to prove that you are alive and that yes you conform to social norms and that you are human, too. you can ask if you’ve done this before and they’ll ask about the specific thing that you’re doing but you mean this moment. this feeling of this time and you’ll wonder if you’ve been in other timelines before where you were happier or sadder or your hair was darker or the relationship was better because it feels the same but so, so different: like trying to explain a dream after the concept recceeds back into the corners of your subconcious. i drive listening to ribs and it’s a good kind of feeling where things bubble up but stay right where they are. i wonder if i will become an adult that says ah, it gets worse because im sure it gets worse, now but i’m not sure there will ever be such a deep disappointment that it feels like your whole world, so it’s not so bad but you think about it and you are so sad. i’ve done it for years and i have dragged my body through it all and i have been unwavering in my efforts and i have cried in class and cried in the bathroom stalls and not eaten lunch and ive spent 30 minutes writing a sentence because i’m scared, im scared, im scared and ive spent 3 hours crying so hard i couldn’t see after and the carpet was damp and then i’ve picked my books up right after and pretended like it was normal and fine and i’ve let myself do things like im hollow like im a too-full water bottle and i slosh all over the floor and i have crawled here, to right now and there is nothing waiting for me. i cannot see the light, i cannot see the gold, there is nothing left to revive me and maybe im lazy and maybe im wrong and maybe ive listened to jobless monday too many times and maybe ive been told to hurry up too many times and maybe ive cried to sleep too much and maybe i’ve lied too much and maybe ive used up all my joy and maybe im a robot who cannot love. who knows.