My Timed Entry

Nowadays, I'm very confused. I feel like I'm about to burst. Like a heavy bubble ready to be poke by something sharp. Sometimes all I just want to do is to sleep and curl into a ball. Waiting for someone to ask if I'm okay. And if this happens, I'll cry on their shoulder and say that I'm not. But there are also days where someone notices. What I hate about myself is if they know something is wrong about me, I'd be all defensive and angry. I'll say that everything is fine. What I hate more is that they believe me; or so I believe that they believe me.

I just wish there would just be a day, only a day, where I wouldn't think or do anything. I'd feel the weight off my shoulders. And my mind would be blank and free from the many anxious thoughts. I'd feel free but at the same time I would still be alive — physically present on Earth. A day where I wouldn't worry of those who would be sad if I'm gone since I am still here. But at the same time I'd feel that I'm free as a bird flying above the sky. Or even as free as a dead person, rotting six feet under. Thinking of nothing and resting eternally.