Good morning my beloved darklings, gothlings and lovelies.  Here I sit.  Awake before everyone I know and having coffee out of my “love potion” mug.  I’ve got a cigarette dangling from my lips so I can type properly.  And think.  I know it may not seem this way but I think a lot.  Like all of the time.  Constantly I’m running through my head how what I want to say might make people feel and how to temper it.  Always I’m remembering the things that are important to me and make me have that endorphine wp-1454831587535.jpegboost.  Every time, before I speak, I try to play out how a conversation may go.  It’s exhausting.

All of that doesn’t change much.  I’m still honest but that which might hurt someone I care about, I keep to myself.  Even if it’s in my best interest to say what’s on my mind.   It’s a shame with all this thought that I’m not better at conversing at the times when what I say might mean so much.  Thank goodness for text messaging.  It gives me a chance to read and edit what I have to say.  Well, some of the time.  A lot of the time I’m quick with the send button.

Thinking so much can make being an introvert even lonelier.  I’ve been getting a lot of attention lately for whatever reason and I’ve also had friends around a lot, thank goodness.  Because I can see how alone I’ve been for a long time now.  It’s not always great.  You can’t people watch if you’re never around any.  You also can’t realize there might be something worthwhile and likeable about you if you’re never around anyone who ever says or notices it.  At least I can’t.  That might come from having my confidence constantly undermined for, well, forever.

Here’s the thing.  I’m sick of feeling this way.  Worry ages the eyes.  It weighs on the heart.  It makes you think stupid things.  And want stupid things.  And do stupid things.  And stay stupidly, stubbornly, with very little expectations in love with stupid, stupid things like the memory of the ghost of a person who may not have ever been real.

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