Insecure

This is dumb, really stupid but here I am. I haven’t written anything in a while. To be honest, I’m not very good at it. I can put things on paper but all the grammar rules and keeping my audience engrossed in what I’m writing I fall quite short on.

Way back I used to think I was the shit at writing though, maybe it’s a good I impulsively deleted all the books I wrote if I read them now I'd probably hate myself more than I already do.

So let’s not look at this as a “book” more of a diary that I’m letting you read. You don’t get to know my name or anything, kind of ruins the fun. All you really need to know is that I’m going through an identity crisis. I hate saying that because everyone says they do and in a world where mental illness or just not good problems are kind of glorified, I feel annoying talking about my problems.

I blame this surge of problems on the quarantine. Being with myself and thoughts 24/7 have done me no good. Maybe that’s why I’m looking forward to school but that’s not going to be any better cause I don’t particularly like anyone there.

I don’t particularly like anyone really.

And I don’t mean to say this to be trendy or “ooo look at me I’m closed off” but genuinely I don’t like many people. Sometimes I feel I’m the problem. I have a couple of friends that I do like though.

I am however starting to not like my best friend as much anymore, which is kinda fucking me up. She’s someone I used to feel like I was so alike to and someone I could tell whatever but lately she’s a stranger to me.

Maybe she’s the reason I’m writing this mistake. Let off some steam. I’m very confused about the whole purpose of this but hopefully, it works at whatever it’s supposed to do.

Till next time I guess.