I’m Sick of Constant Reinvention.

Why is it that we can’t just be the same people, acting the same way, in the same circles forever?

I’m so sick and tired of having to change and perform for different crowds in different scenarios as a means of fitting in. It’s a conscious effort, and I know that sounds weak.

I mean, why can’t you just be yourself?

I have the answer for you – because I don’t make sense in this world.

There are those of us, that exist in the plane,  that absolutely do not fit in. No matter what we say or do, we’re always attempting to find a place in this world where we belong.

I can “belong”, depending on what that term means. I can be within a group of people and seem like I should be there. It’s a skill to be a chameleon like this. I’m not sure if those of us, I know there has to be more than just me, should be proud or saddened by this skill.

But these people, they either eventually leave me or I have to leave them. Everyone I come across is so damn disenchanting, so boring, so full of themselves and their own little issues that it has become ad nauseum.

And if they aren’t, and have a glimmer of interest, I eventually act the way I am – I show my true colours. That is someone no one really wants to be around.

Those who meet me say I’m “relaxed and aloof” – and they’re not wrong. I’m mostly expressionless and don’t want you to touch me. It’s better for me to be this way than to be who I could be. You can fit in anywhere if you’re  the blank slate in the group, because no one quite knows you yet. Be friendly, polite, act interested when necessary, keep your distance – it’s really not that difficult.

It’s funny, my friends often ask “how are you so self-assured and calm?”

If only you knew. Truly, if only you actually fucking asked and didn’t back off when I showed you how I really am.

If only I could be myself, my true self, and even show you a sliver of how difficult it is. How neurotic, obsessive, passionate and intense I am. I’m plagued with these thoughts of love and loss and why I’m even here.

I hate attention-seeking, so who I am to speak up? That’s why I’m writing here, I’m tired of being alone.

Being one in a million, that’s how sure I am, I can’t be alone.


PS. 2 weeks without a cigarette tomorrow, that counts for something – right?



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