Get out, get out, get out

If your body didn’t demand that you need sleep, would you still sleep?

I don’t think I would and that scares me.

It makes me realize the height of my discontent with the here and now. That I can’t afford to waste time – that I must use each and every second I have to pave the way to a happier future. I can’t seem to accept this seemingly slow but truthfully vicious transition into adulthood – and all the nasties that come with it. To realize that stereotypes are there for a reason – because men will actually always be men. To realize that no one appreciates or cares. To know that you are not that special – even to yourself. Honestly, it depresses me. And I try to console myself – chanting like a mantra “it will get better if you can get out, get out, get out.” But I know it’s not true. I know it. To find yourself in a horrible mess without ever having evil intentions – it just happened that way. To want nothing but to escape yet knowing that the same shit would happen irregardless of where I am or who I meet. Every 4 years on average I move countries, schools, faces. It’s become a habit, just a matter of fact. That my anchor was cut loose a while ago.


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