I stay up late on the weekends, I feel lonely all the time and I can’t help but think of myself as that person that doesn’t matter. I always notice how others touch other people but, I never get touched as much as I would like.
I stay up thinking about how many people would even know I was gone. The first people to notice would probably be my co workers, seeing as I wouldn’t show up to work. The second people would be my family, or my mother to be exact, as she will wonder where I am after a day or so. The third would be either my friend Holiday or Jake, they would try to contact me and after no recent posts on Tumblr or here, or Facebook they would come looking for me. Other people wouldn’t even notice. There are some people who would get that feeling in the pit of their stomachs that something has happened, but I am pretty sure they can’t do a lot of things about, I know one person, ‘Delta’, who would want to but wouldn’t be able to, because of where she lives.
I don’t know. I want to be noticed and needed, but I don’t want to be. I wish I could get money from somewhere and mooch off of someone, but I want to be dependent on myself, so just in case something bad happens, no one has to see.
I get dark moments too. Everyone does.
I don’t want them, they just happen.
Tonight, I am just thinking, should I sleep, or should I not.
As of right now, I want to keep feeling some sort of awareness to my body, telling me that I am indeed alive. But, I mustn’t, for I get addicted. It’s hard to stop. I just want to cover myself in nothing but a dark mahogany cloak that keeps me safe and sound from the outside world. Hiding underneath the shadows and lurking, staring at all the souls around me.
Now I am just spouting stuff because I am on caffeine and sugar mixed with no sleep.
The nights flew by as she sat in her bedroom dreading the feeling of the sunlight against her cold, carpeted floors. She, being the only night owl in her family, sleeps all day in the darkest corner of her room. Straying from the small patches of light, she does the same thing over and over. She thinks about her life, and what to do with it. She doesn’t want to be seen or heard. She doesn’t want to be known but she wants to make others happy and make life for others easier. She wants to be a stress doll for others, but she’d feel sad and hated. She’d hate herself even more. She always resorts to some sort of ‘awakening.’ It takes her away from her dark stages in her mind, and she needs some sort of snap out of a dream like hell. Many things could do it; a slap in the face, and muffled scream due to a pillow, a hole in the wall… She prefers the silent killer way, the knife to skin. She doesn’t understand it all to well as to why she likes it, however, she does know that she, herself, holds the easier power of ending the pain all together or shunning it back into the black pit in her heart, mind and soul. She likes the idea, that she is her own God.