“Masks; 51”

I’ll call this rant “masks; 51″

I am stressed, I am exhausted and I am just done. Done with the excuses I give myself so that I can procrastinate another hour, done with the assignments I have due, done with avoiding everything I’ve piled up and, most importantly I’m done with putting in an effort for nothing.

Why am I having so much trouble writing an essay for a college that will soon be just another irrelevant mishap never to be forgotten? Why do I want to be so honest, why can’t I just lie and be someone who I’m not. I do it day to day anyway.

I’ve accepted that I am a liar and I accepted it a long time ago, I realized that this façade I have created to make sure no one gets too close has literally consumed me, I honestly don’t even remember what I like or dislike; I’m lost in my own mind.

I wake up every morning telling myself that today’s going to be a little less fucked up than yesterday so maybe one day I’ll actually be content cause well, happiness is a mask I’m yet to craft. I doubt I’ll recognize who I am when I finally take my mask off.

Can I ask you, whoever you are a question? Why do you bother, why bother waking up in the morning when you know each day has the potential to be worse than the last?  Why do you bother acting like you’re happy alongside people who won’t matter after a few years?

I’ve written exactly 51 words in every paragraph. I wanted them to all be identical because well a little order doesn’t hurt anyone, at least that’s what I’ve learnt. I used to find the fact that there’s anarchy; good. Now I’ve come to realize that structure in itself is a lie.