Its funny how I eternally,obnoxiously hate myself,always want to change but lack the courage to do so.There's so much amendment needed,don't know where to start from,so i just give up.When there are too many patches to be sewn into the torn cloth, you discard the piece of rag, not tirelessly stitch it up all in vain. Here I am in stitches, there's more threadwork than cloth. It's a shame how little of me is left.I am quite aware of how I am losing myself in the name of change,for the sake of fitting in.Everytime I laugh a little louder than i felt like,jammed to a song I never really liked,everytime that I pretend to be someone I'm not--I hear it--the distant whimper of the drowning old "me". I forgo the muffles, like how one ignores the doleful cry of a howling dog at midnight. Is it worth the kill? How much more do I hide, how far do I run? If my laugh resonates with the laughter of the ones around me, will I be just as much happy as they pretend to be?
The truth is, I don't really know who I am. I change so much, so often, that I could be so many people all at once.Either that or a sparkless star lost in its own blackhole. It's okay to be lost sometimes.Or all the time.We are all a little lost within outselves.We need to stop hating ourselves.Change isn't deception,neither is it progression,it's constant evolution.We aren't cocoons morphing into butterflies, there is no fruitful outcome, no glorious end product. It's constant evolution.Yes,people change--your best friend from college doesn't like you anymore,let's not whine about it.Yes,people are fake--she's been rambling about how she loves coffee while ordering tea, let's not judge.This would be a safe place if only we are more understanding and exist in unanimous soliloquy.