Goals are important. You can't live life with out them, i guess. But too many just get in the way.
I want to reach my goals and I want to be ambitious but when I get discouraged, I find it hard to strive for them. I find myself becoming more and more indifferent.
Inspiration comes in short bursts. Security and happiness are delicacy's I feel like I can't afford. I just want to work harder and stop hurting and disappointing and lying and pretending.
I want to trust and open up. I have walls, and no doors. I isolate myself, projecting what I think people want to see. Nobody knows who I am. I don't know who I am.
My dreams and hops arent dreams and hopes but merely convenient paths chosen at random. I'm lazy.
I don't have time for friendships and boys. I don't have time to be normal or happy, because I'm working toward artificial happiness. Instead of breaking down my walls, I'm building a facade.
I push people away with harsh words and angry, the products of fear.
I'm afraid.
To fail.
I want people to like me.
Talk to me.
Talk about me.
Think about me.
But I don't have time to do the same.
Disgusting.
I am a liar. The worst kind. I know what I do. I do it anyway.
I'm sorry.
