Words play in my head all too often. I have words running through my head most of the time. I rarely have a time when I do not have thoughts in my head. Maybe I am just like any other girls in this world. I talk a lot when I get comfortable with you. I talk about life, nonsense and everything you can think of, the things I love, the things you love, the things we love, the things I hate, the things you hate and the things we hate. Sometimes, when we feel fancy, we would talk about philosophy, talk about life, talk about where we are going to go and where we would end up or where we would want to end up. I could spend hours, days, weeks and years just talking to a person who I love truly and who would understand me sincerely from the bottom of their heart. I would talk to a person who would not judge me and to whatever I have to say, he or she would understand and when I am wrong, he or she would tell me I am wrong and we would talk again about why I am wrong. Maybe he or she would tell me his or her dreams and we would look at them, drawing them out into drawings, singing the songs that our hearts yearn for.

I would prefer if it is a he that would stay up with me during the nights when I feel so lonely all I need is someone to talk to.

But there isn’t anyone like this in my life now. I have no one to really talk to and when I cry, I don’t really have someone that I know for sure I can rely on to hold me. I don’t have a person, or a man, that I can give my heart and soul to. I have been alone for so long. Going through mountains of sharp pains and seas of fire. I have chosen this path where I walk alone. I can’t find a person to talk to, and I have to stop myself from talking. I have to stop myself from sharing all the things that I would love to share with the world. When I am sad or weak or lonely, I don’t always choose to talk to people, because I can’t find anyone to talk to. I need to maintain an image and it is really hard for me to do so. I have heard of a saying saying that if you find the need to maintain an image, then you are most probably a fake person. 

Maybe I am really a fake person.

I don’t cry in front of others when everything is tearing me apart, instead I laugh. I don’t stomp my foot when I can’t find a solution, instead I sit down and put my head in my hands, hoping to find an answer like that. I don’t tell everyone what is going on in my life even though sometimes, I would really love to. I don’t say anything about anyone because I think that is really nasty, even though sometimes I would love to go into a crowd where people are talking about others and no matter how mean and painful it is, it seems fun. I don’t sit down and pretend there is nothing going around in the world when I am upset, instead I would stand up stand up and laugh, because maintaining that image of being a happy person is important to me.

Am I really being fake?

Instead of speaking, I write. I write while I cry. I write while everything tears me down. I write, endlessly, finding a voice. I don’t have much to tell after writing. I write, in a way no one that is near me would know my story. I write because I still want to be heard. I write because there are so many things in my head and I would love it if people can hear the voice in my head. I write, without stopping. I run, without stopping. How hard is it to cry? How hard is it to stop yourself from crying? How hard is it to smile when you are breaking down into pieces? I write, because there are things that are worth writing about.

I live in silence when my head is bombarded with different voices. I live in silence and when there is no one around me, I sing my song.


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