17 Jan

The world is a scary place. And a big place. With many, many people…

And it scares me too, sometimes.

I can tell myself a million times: if they can do it, I can; if she can have it, I can; if he can make it, I can.
If there are so many people, there will be someone for me.
If there are so many jobs, there will be one for me.
If there are so many cities, I can live in one of them.
If there are so many houses, one day I will have one of my own.

But I don’t, do I? I don’t have the one, the job, or the house.
I’ve been telling myself for years that one day, I would be there, have it. Maybe be the happiest person on earth. But that day still hasn’t come. And I’m starting to become unsecure again. And that scares me even more.

And who can I tell such stuff? I mean, if I already scare myself, what can I expect of others?
And really, I’m not a depressed person. I just don’t like myself thinking like this, it’s a bit too dark, too lonely, too scary.

It’s one of these days that I wish would just pass, I wish it was tomorrow.

(I’m sorry for my blackness. But I thought I’ld wright it down. It helped a bit too.)


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