dearest me, whom i dont recognize anymore
a. you fucking prick, you fucking phony. i dont know you. when i look in the mirror, i dont see you, i see the self you fabricate for people. to what? to please them? well its not working. so you might as well just be the self you truly are.
b. but here’s the thing. who am i, truly? who the fuck cares anymore.
c. im tired of pretending (maybe not pretending, but acting in ways that i want to)
d. who are you again? what good does it bring to people if you pretend anyways.
e. loneliness is eternal. stop trying to comfort yourself by using solitude as a substitute.
f. i dont know those bands, those artists you started listening to. i dont know the kinda clothing you wear everyday. and what the hell did you have for breakfast these days?
g. eat shit