I do not feel real. The world is going on around me but I am a stranger.
I don't feel real. Not really. I know I am, but sometimes I wonder.
I cannot focus, if this isn't real, what is?
The world runs in circles around accomplishments I have yet to see.
I cannot focus, my body is here but my mind is away.
Thoughts are broken. Fragmented, like a million comma splices.
I feel so alone here. Everyone else seems to feel real, but I feel so odd, like a ghost haunting a body, wondering if someone will notice.
There is no one to tell. No one understands.
How do you explain that nothing feels real? That it all feels like some sort of dream you have to wake up from at some point but never do.
Does the rest of the world exist? Is it all a figment of my half insane mind? How would I know?
I wish I could stop this feeling. Finally feel life finally get everything done I need to.
But... I suppose that's why I'm here anyway. So much to do, enough time. So. Why. Can't. I. Focus?
I have to hide these feelings. No one can know how much of an outsider I truly am.
I told them. They dont care. Don't know what to do. Don't know what's wrong with me.
I wish I knew. But an explanation wouldn't fix me. Nothing truly does.
They're to busy to care anyway. Trying to fix themselves, put a band aid over a crack in a large dam.
How do you ask for help if no one can help you?
I do not feel real. Time is slipping away.
I wish I could. But my mind is so fractured, so frazzled nothing seems to process, to matter.
There is so much I must do.... So I suppose I do none of it.
Time goes so slow. But they day is half over.
I wish my life mattered more to me.