12:03 am.
A rant.
What are we doing? What is the point of any of this?
Must we seriously fight over my annoyance?
It's always the same fight. And though you never say it, I know what you want to yell at me.
Why can't I be better? Why can't I be neater? Why can't I be perfect?
Why must I be difficult?...
No matter how much you convince yourself and tell me that you love me, that you care for me...I will never see it that way.
Not anymore.
Not again.
Not ever.
...
But I must be crazy right?
You think I'm crazy.
For the way I dress, I'm weird.
For the shows I like, I'm weird.
Wanting to express myself, it makes me weird.
Telling you how I feel, well I sound crazy.
Talking to strangers, well I must be crazy.
Wanting to follow my dreams? Do what I love and pursue it in a career—no, how could I. Forgive me, I'm crazy.
I'm always crazy.
It's like no matter what I do I'll never be right do you. I'll never be right by you.
I merely exist and I'm always wrong. I'm always at fault. I'm always the burden. I'm always the problem.
I am crazy.
But only because you drive me to be.
Crazy enough to wish the unthinkable...
I've lost myself. I don't even know what to say anymore. What to do. What to think—
I don't know anymore...
Anonymously yours,
—𝐀𝐍Ø𝐍
CITEȘTI
Anonymously yours
AlteleA series of letters directed to no one in particular. My innermost thoughts, feelings and sometimes prayers, that haunt me. There will be no set schedule, they aren't planned, and shouldn't be consistent. If the letters seem to be left up for the...
