Feelings...
Going out of the building, noticing the massive amount of people here, fear conquers me. Sadness becomes overwhelming once again. Not a single one of them is like me. Nobody feels the way I feel. I look around without astonishment or joy but plain loneliness. I am alone in there.
Standing here, still observing people all around me. My eyes search for a point to aim at. My mind gets numerous thoughts. My body doesn’t stop moving in tiny anxiety movements. My heart is racing. My stare is getting lost. I am there, though not entirely.
Silent for half an hour, some ask me if I’m okay. I deny. Again. As always.
And I keep hoping somebody is going to be willing to get my thoughts out of my mind. But none does. I keep wishing a tear is going to fall down my face. I keep hoping somebody is going to offer me some comfort. But they won’t see that I am broken.
There’s a remark about some girl being like a counselor to the whole class. In my mind, I wonder why she never came to me. To get to know my own secrets.
But who likes a sad girl? Who likes a silent girl? What is there that is interesting? There’s nothing except a vast amount of lies hidden behind makeup.
People might notice looks, however if nothing seems to appear behind those shadows and that mascara they won’t come. They won’t bother wonder what is on your mind. They don’t read minds. That’s your own duty to tell them, to express these feelings, to show your true self.
Your true self might be feeling prettier with makeup on, but looks isn’t going to do all the work.
03.17.15
Standing here, still observing people all around me. My eyes search for a point to aim at. My mind gets numerous thoughts. My body doesn’t stop moving in tiny anxiety movements. My heart is racing. My stare is getting lost. I am there, though not entirely.
Silent for half an hour, some ask me if I’m okay. I deny. Again. As always.
And I keep hoping somebody is going to be willing to get my thoughts out of my mind. But none does. I keep wishing a tear is going to fall down my face. I keep hoping somebody is going to offer me some comfort. But they won’t see that I am broken.
There’s a remark about some girl being like a counselor to the whole class. In my mind, I wonder why she never came to me. To get to know my own secrets.
But who likes a sad girl? Who likes a silent girl? What is there that is interesting? There’s nothing except a vast amount of lies hidden behind makeup.
People might notice looks, however if nothing seems to appear behind those shadows and that mascara they won’t come. They won’t bother wonder what is on your mind. They don’t read minds. That’s your own duty to tell them, to express these feelings, to show your true self.
Your true self might be feeling prettier with makeup on, but looks isn’t going to do all the work.
03.17.15
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