ASYLUM

Isolated from the world, in this dark room, so many thoughts and emotions, so confused, so pessimistic, yet, still trying to find the light. Pressure is boiling inside of me, self-pity, anxiety, paranoia, fear. I hate this feeling. I’m afraid of doing something wrong. AGAIN, as someone’s always watching me. I really, REALLY hate this feeling.

You know you’re doing everything you could, you could even blow up any minute, but everything doesn’t seem to be enough. You feel so silly, STUPID. You feel like a big mistake, a failure, as if you’ve done no good in this world, WORTHLESS.

There’s still so much to do, to learn, maybe too much, that in the end you’d forget them all. Always making the wrong decisions, you hate it. You do everything you could about it; and yet, STILL, everything doesn’t seem to be enough. The world seems to have neglected you, as if how you feel doesn’t matter. The world wants you to give everything. You do all your best to, but the world doesn’t seem to plan on doing the same thing. The world would be hurt for sure, if you’d fail, AGAIN. The world slaps to your face all your failures, and all it has done for you, as if you don’t get hurt every time you fall. The world acts as if you’re not doing anything about it, when actually; you’re an inch close to death in trying.

I don’t want this heart to die. I want to continue living with love. I love to love. Love is everything one truly needs; but the again, everything doesn’t seem to be enough.

For once, you’d rather stay away from the world, because not matter what you do, it would never listen, never understand. It thinks it has done enough, even too much. Yes, too much. It has judged me too much. What’s the good of being here, where I am now, if no matter what I do, I’d always be wrong?I’d rather stay away from the world. It thinks I’m overly sensitive anyway. But this is how I feel. And believe me, I never wanted to feel this way. Who would want to cry?

The world may think I’m insane. The world does everything to take away that “insanity” in me. But how can it take something that doesn’t even exist in me? Or change something that isn’t true? I’m not insane, I’m sure of it. I’m just… in pain. Hah, this I know the world will again criticize. It always has something wrong to say about me. Everything seems to have been a waste. I seem to have been a waste.

“Me, with the world” creates a chaos inside me. Asylum… maybe that would be better for me. They think I’m insane anyway.