my brain is going...

 One frustrating thing with my memory issues that i have a whole habit. 

I look at something, "memorize" it, and then close the thing i need to remember to continue. And that is an old habit, so old that i don't even think about it, i just look at the text and go. 

But nowadays my memory is stupid, and i keep forgetting what i wanted to memorize. Like I remember that I memorized it, but not, what it was? The name of the file, but not the content. 

It feels like when you enter a room and you're sure there was a reason why you're here, but you scan your brain and cannot find this reason. 

And its frustrating, because it wasn't always like that. I used to be able to memorize things, like my clues to which page im reading or what email to login, but my brain just stopped saving at some points and i have to keep going back to refresh my memory, which is frustrating for everyone included, especially me. 

I don't want to forget your birthday or your plans or what you told me in secret, but my brain has like a couple of bits of space free at any given moment and while i am listening i can sometimes feel how the information gets deleted in my brain before the conversation is over. 

At work I help myself by screenshotting everything and everyone, but after half a year I have a screenshot folder that has like a thousand pictures, and i cant sort through that properly anyways. 

i think therefore I can lie ?

I understand that he wants contact. But no matter what I say he laughs. Maybe that is his humor? is he mackin fun of me or am i being a bitch to a guy who is just a bit weird. 

that sounds rude. i guess it is. 

but the goal is to be positive. Or at least neutral which is better than my normal. 

am i scared to be cringe? perhaps. i dont know wether the thouights in my head are real or just an imagination of what I would expect a person to sound on this amount of drugs. 

I think the brain isn't supposed to question itself like this. 

I want a good grade for fighting for my life

 I sit here. 

Its just past midnight. I wouldve been out for longer, but my friend needs to work tomorrow. I've consumed. It was just weed but it has reached levels that i woudlnt have thought off in my wildest dreams. This has become the new normal. Get home from work and smoke a little bit to escape for the three hours i have at home before i need to go to sleep to wake up to work. 

Is this an addiction? I cannot say. I know that I had a very similar problem around my twenties with alcohol. But I have 100% overcome this. 

So i dont know if this is just a step in me becoming. 

or, you know, me becoming an addict. 

but its fine. 

because while it cloacks me in that soft mist that fills out all my imperfections. Suddenly I appear tolerable. And that is apparently the best feeling I can dream off. 

I know I am suffering. 

But I do not know wether it is because I am depressed or me being scared to death of me faking all of this. Am I doing this to be special or is it me? Is it my nature or just good acting? 

I know a happy normal person wouldn't ask themselves these questions, therefore I qualify and have nothing to worry about. I am not "faking". 

But maybe that is just a clever thought out story I tell myself to live in peace because the truth is worse? What if I am worse? Maybe I am a genius, that has thought of all possible scenarios and has prepared exactly for this? Will I ever really know. 

I dont think there is an answer but there is a peace in accepting that youre okay. 

You are not taking up space that you do not deserve. You are sick and it is fine. You are not just pretending for attention. It is fine. Everything will be fine. 

My friends love me. More than I could ever love myself. And because of that love I need to protect them by not deserting them. I will be a good human because they deserve to be friends with reliable good humans. So thats what I am going to be. 

If the people around you are genuinly annoyed by your presence they will leave. they will not stay out of politeness, that is a you-thing. So if they are staying, they are good people. 

is this incoherent? it doesnt feel like that right now. Maybe its the drugs. Maybe 

im okay i think. 

how much?

 Do you know how much to take, 

to make all this end? 

Do you know what to take, 

for our body to bend?

To bend and break and cry and scream, 

yet outside everything's fine it seems. 

I know the dosis, 

i know what to take, 

but here i am surviving, 

for somebody elses sake. 

why am i alive, 

why do i keep breathing, 

when im full of pain, 

and my soul is leaving. 

I should apologize for being myself

 I should apologize for being myself, 

for the way my voice sounds, my arms flail around, 

the way my humor will always insult someone. 

I should apologize for being myself, 

my sick, depressed self, that doesnt offer anything, 

yet takes and takes and takes. 

Why are people friends with me? I seem to just be a burden. 

Maybe they feel good about helping a person. 

I suppose that might be reason. Stupid reason. 

please end this

i hate being alive

 i hate being alive, 
why do I have to wake up every day. 
I keep begging to god, 
but he doesn't listen to what I say. 

I wake up upset at life,
I go to sleep upset at death.
"please let me fucking die", 
I keep asking with every breath. 

But life goes on, 
another day, another mess. 
Why do I keep going, 
who am I trying to impress. 

Trying to prove something to someone, 
trying to show that there is hope. 
When drugs, alcohol and sleep, 
is the only way that I can cope. 

Hello, Goodbye, Fuck off, I say. 

I go to sleep to escape my day. 

Fuck

Maybe?

Maybe if I punch enough walls, 
and take enough of those pills. 

My crooked smile will return, 

because this depression, it kills, 

every shred of happiness in my soul, 

every shred of hope within this wreck, 

that I call my body, isn't it funny? 

Outside it is always so sunny, 

but my mind is clouded in darkness, 

a never ending ocean full of sad, 

a bottom less puddle on the sidewalk.

when it could be nothingness instead. 

Sometimes I wish I couldn't feel a thing, 

but this Apathy is worse than any sadness, 

Atleast I can feel anything. 

however terrible it might be,

whatever it might bring. 

Because I cannot even begin, 

to describe the selfhatred I feel when I look, 

just look at my future, or my life. 

Being alive stings like a knife, 

down im my stomach, 

I'd rather be dead, 

than feel this nothingness. 

And yet when the curtain lifts, 

the only thing that comes through is hate. 

Sometimes I think that it might be to late, 

to late to save the child that couldn't wait, 

to grow up, and now has too much on its plate.