I want to cry. But I think that would not be enough. For the reason I do not know, I just want to be invisible.
Sometimes the complexity of life burns me out; but more often its simplicity kills me down. I’m paranoid that I might be paranoid. The ghosts I create seem to forever haunt me. Hypochondria is taking its toll on me. It makes me sick, really sick.
My mood swings in an irregular tempo and it overtakes the frequency of my heartbeat. It sends messages faster than what my synapses can do for my brain to function well. Oxymoron of words and deeds are the direct results of my smart yet so unintelligent decision-making ability. I am dumb for I am a genius. I am a coward for I am a fighter.
I hate myself but I want to live. I just want to disappear.