I’m not suicidal. I’m not depressed.
well not really.
I don’t cut. I don’t hurt myself.
I cheer people up. I try to make them happy. I do. I lift their spirits up.
the paradox is that I am not happy.
the unhappiness I show people is just a tiny fraction of what I feel inside. this bomb, waiting to explode.
sometimes I think of things. those things. which way is faster. is it going to be better. will I be remembered?
I’m not suicidal.
well, not really.