The thing is that I like life better when I don't have to think. When everything's gone black, or I'm in a state where mind and thought are lost.
And most of the time I do it by downing way too much vodka and saying yes to whichever guy hits on me. And the thing is my friends don't stop me or anything, because it's just the way I am, it's who I am. And I go with it, which is alright really but sometimes I wish someone would just grab me and shake me or slap me and just tell me to stop. That I don't need this, that I'm better than it. But instead they laugh and joke about the embarrassing things I apparently have done.
Why do I do it? I don't really know, I think it's because although I act independent, although I act all smiles, deep down I'm lonely. And I'm shaken by the thought of being alone. A lot of the time, I feel more alone than anyone else here. Everything that I have, the friends and boys don't make me feel any more real, they don't make me feel any better, because when I go home alone to my bed and turn off the light, the same darkness fulfills me, the same insecurities and loneliness escapes me through the broken tears that stain my pillow every night.
And it's the worst feeling imaginable. And it's almost impossible to bury, or forget or repress. The only way to do it, to escape it, is to chase that temporary high, that fleeting feeling. To be with him for those quick minutes and for just a little while, feel nothing but his arms. Have someone complimenting you and touching you; makes you feel wanted, makes me feel wanted. Makes me feel like someone or just something other than the empty shell that I am. Smiling only because I'm too drunk to feel my own face; being numb and protected from all the hateful words I sing.
The only thing that ruins it, is the downfall. Because it comes to an end every time whether I leave quickly or morning comes, the downfall happens. I feel the pain even more intensely. It shrinks the hole just to blow it up again, just to suck me in and grab at all the broken pieces that lay scattered. It hurts, it hurts.
I don't want to be this person anymore, I don't want to fool around with meaningless people just to feel real, I just want to be happy. I just want to be able to sit in my bed at night and not feel so lost.
I just want somebody to stop me and tell me I'm better than this, and make me believe it. Because the popularity and everything is nice, but it's hollow, just like me.
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