Lost sight of a picture never taken

Lost art of keeping a secret
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2019-10-17 12:00:00 (UTC)

Take a deep breath

Compartmentalisation of everything is what allows me to control everything that I am. Years of practice has taught me to strip down, break up and squeeze everything inside. Push those little blocks into holes, To go back to an earlier entry, place those pictures on the other side of a door that only I can pass through.

Don’t get this wrong, people believe it makes me weak, makes me unable to ride my own shit, unable to bare the weight of my own troubles, The trouble with people like that, is that they overlook the method in my madness. They believe I don’t “feel” these things, that I don’t “deal with” the troubles. But the fact is I feel them all. I can walk into a room and pull out a picture of some of the best and worst memories in my life. Feel them and see them like I am back in that moment. So, you see, I don’t just simply take a moment and let it fade into my memory, I relive it whenever I need to, I don’t forget.

Just because they don’t see me, doesn’t make me weak. Just because they judge me as a version of them doesn’t make me the same as them. I have no interest in fitting in Their neat little mould or abiding by their cute little fucking rules.

It takes strength beyond words to face who you are, the good and the bad. To sit in the dark without your eyes, without your eyes and feel. Until you know who you are, you’re just another face in the crowd.

Just another reason I force myself to fit into the crowd. People don’t seem to like it when you tell them they see you for something you’re not.

It’s taking every ounce of my being to control what I type so it’s at least makes sense. Bring winter, I’m tired of seeing the sun rise for the time being.

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