I’d like to think sometimes that life will change, that one day I’m going to wake up and end up different. Something like I’ve been messing around with myself and suddenly, I become this perfect person kinda thing.

but that never does happen in reality, does it?

This morning I don’t want to get up from my bed. My bed is soft, and comforting. It will accept me as I am unlike anybody else. I percolate thoughts over there. I run over them again and again editing and adding like in a movie. I’m the actress, producer, script writer and director all in one and I like it because I’m calling the shots.
life should be like that.

I have 1 message, my phone tells me. Its from Keisha. but I feel too exhausted to read it. I’m tired with being dysfunctional like this and not being able to sustain friends. I used to be a good friend at one point, I think. There was a circle of people and I was their centre. I was the fearless leading the pack.
but then, I don’t know who I was then.

and then again, I don’t know who I am now either.

.
My mother knocks on the door, ‘ Honey, don’t you have to get to school? you should have been up fifteen minutes ago’

‘yeah yeah’

I haven’t slept all night but what do I tell her? I want to go back, or away from this life script of mine that I’m not writing.
I need to go back, far back into the past where I was alright and examine where I went wrong. But the past, it’s a dangerous place. It brings back exploding memories that jostle so hard around in my head that it makes me feel like banging myself on the wall or jumping off the building.

Come to think of it, I have jumped off once which resulted in one very broken arm. But hey, the doctor mended me and said I was perfectly alright.

But that doesn’t mean he got the diagnosis right.
Especially when I was falling to pieces inside.