That strange feeling you get when you can’t make sense of what is real, and can only understand what is going on in your head…

For the first time in several months, I’m in one of my moods. Carving an X in my arm, punching the plastic blinds on my bedroom window until they cut my knuckles just so the blood can run up my arm and stain the sleeves of my shirt. I’m awfully tempted to start cutting up my face. I’ve always known I wasn’t gorgeous or beautiful but I always thought I was at least kind of cute. I don’t think I’m cute anymore. I’ve lost all sense of being vain. That’s all I had in life.

I never had a brain. So what if I have some street smarts? I don’t live on the streets. What good is it to me? Who cares if I have an idea once in a while? Ideas never got me a job to put food on the table. They said I can be cold and emotionless “like a robot.â€? I wish I could be a robot. Not knowing what is good or bad, beautiful or ugly. Just serving one purpose- to exist.

But what if I don’t want to exist anymore? What am I now?