going back.

“maybe i’ve always been more comfortable in chaos”

I can’t stop it, but at least now I know that I want to. I’m ending. I can’t find my way back to myself because I don’t know myself. I don’t know if I ever did. I thought I did, once.

Now I think I was what was expected and once all the expectations were filled, I lost more and more of who I thought I was. Childhood seems a lifetime ago but I’d do anything to go back again. Just to savour it properly, since I forgot to slow down the first time around.

I don’t want to spend my whole life forgetting to enjoy it, but I don’t see anything to enjoy anymore. I’m ending.

I’m angry, too.


(please don’t worry about how this entry sounds – i wrote it in my journal a long time ago and have since picked myself up. i wanted to put it up just because it was an important time for me.)


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