deep down, all i wanted was to stop living. i remember the days when i prayed hard to God telling him, the only thing i wanted is for Him to kill me. take me with Him. what if this place was hell and that because its hell, it eats up your courage to leave this place. what you crave will never be yours or fulfilled. so if you wanted to die, hell would never let you get that easy.
deep down, im scared, lost and theres no place i ever felt like i belong. i wanna go home but theres no place like home.some nights i cry to bed without any reasons. empty, thats all i felt.
‘Maybe I’m just built indifferent, Maybe I was born anxious and angry and this is how I find peace with the universe. Maybe I truly am miserable, and everyone else is feeling something I’m not. or Maybe they’re all full of shit.
I run, I run over mountains until my toenails fall off. I run until my feet bleed and my skin burns and my bones scream.
I work. I work for twelve hours a day. I work until I can’t think straight and I forget to feed myself and the light outside dims to a tired glow.
When I do these things, I’m not smiling or beaming with joy. I’m not happy. In truth, when I do these things, I’m often suffering.
but I do them because I find them meaningful. I find them compelling. I do these things because I want to be tormented and challenged and interested. I want to build things and break them. I want to be busy and beautiful and brimming with ten-thousand moving parts.
I want to hurt, so that I can heal.’
someday even when im happy, im afraid i would still look for misfortune.