on living like a haunted house

Chapter 1


i) people say that there is a method to everything,
a solid one-two-three-success way to achieve or graph anything that comes to mind,
but there is absolutely no method to my madness,
and maybe that’s what scares me the most.

ii) my friends keep asking me “what’s wrong?” and i don’t really know what to say.
because nothing’s wrong. but everything’s wrong. the entire universe is just one big mass of wrong.
but life is okay. no life is really f☻cked, but it’s okay.

iii) the only way to describe it is this;
there’s an entire civilisation living inside your head, and every person has a different voice,
but then you open your mouth, and nothing comes out.
everything is too much, no matter how big or how small.

iv) i can’t tell you how bad it is, i’m sorry.
sometimes it’s a tiny little speck on the window,
but other times i am the speck and it is the window.
it can change in an instant.

v) i know that it could be worse.
i know that compared to most people i am the luckiest person alive,
but reminding me of this does not help, i promise.
that is what makes all of this worse;
the knowledge that i am obvioulsy not strong enough for this world.

vi) i don’t want to be the person who is left behind anymore;
all of my friends seem to grow tired of me eventually.
for once i want to be the person who someone wants to keep.

vii) the entire house falls asleep, the bricks themselves snoring softly.
but this is when i am most awake because this is when the most faithful ones i’ve ever known come to visit.
the moment my mother closes her bedroom door is the moment my nightly battle begins,
and i promise you there is nothing beautiful about it.

viii) there is a quote that reads “do something every day that scares you.”
but my state of mind at the moment is reminiscent to a haunted house,
and every day is a new kind of nightmare that i never know how to find my way out of.
so what do i do when the actual day is the thing that scares me?
what then?


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