Losing Myself

I am changing again,

but it’s not for the better…

Each day I grow angry, much angrier than the day before.

I’m losing myself.

It seems as though the more silent I become the more susceptible I am to violence and wrath.

I’m losing her.

Years ago, I made a drastic decision, a radical choice. I wrote a love letter to a young girl, a girl who is now a woman in the face of the world. However, that woman is not the girl of my dreams. She is changing, but I’m afraid it’s for the worse. It’s dark. It’s a cold feeling I get.

The girl of my dreams is a woman of love, compassion, and justice. The girl of my dreams would stand up for what is right. The girl of my dreams doesn’t succumb to peer pressure or bribery. She is a woman of valor. I haven’t even spoken to her in years and here I am defending some idea of what I think I want, or worse, what I think I know.

I’m losing myself.

I think about suicide everyday. I think about different ways I can kill myself. Yesterday I was walking through the school of arts and there was a display of ropes. I thought about hanging myself.

I love learning, but I hate going to school. I feel like I’m wasting my time. I have two weeks left in the quarter, and yet I want to give it all up. It doesn’t matter to me. That stupid piece of paper doesn’t matter to me. A bachelor of arts, who gives a fuck?

I miss the old days.

I guess this is what they call loss of innocence.



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