Fake

On the surface, everything is fine. I wake up early, go to work. Eat three meals a day. Go to the gym. By all accounts, I should be a happy person. A functioning human being. Someone with drives and wants and feelings other than numbness.

But instead I’m just hollow inside.

I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, or when I started making the mistakes, but clearly something isn’t right. There’s only so many times you can change everything about yourself and your life before you have to call into question the source of all your misfortune. Is it my brain? My heart? My soul? The very atoms that make up all of those things? Was whatever star I was born from so corrupt that it’s bound to keep driving itself into supernova in every version of its existence?

I have no idea how I’m supposed to stop a supernova, especially on the days when I can barely drag myself out of bed. Sometimes I feel as though there’s no stopping it no matter how hard I try. I can’t ignore it and I can’t stop it, and sometimes living with it is so unbearable that I just want to stop and start the cycle all over again. Even though that would be the definitive opposite of fixing the problem.

I am just so angry at everything. At both myself and the world for making me this way. At everyone around me for not fixing the problem. I am resistant to change and yet it is all that I crave. Hopefully one day I will change enough that I finally find peace.

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