i do not exist out of context.
sometimes i think that maybe my life has consisted only of a series of lies that i’ve told to myself & convinced myself to believe. this may have been fine for awhile, but now that i’ve acknowledge this deception i feel sick to my stomach. i don’t know what’s real & what’s fake & i’m too much of a coward to try to make the distinction.
i do not exist out of context.
i am leaving & i’m not taking anyone with me.
maybe i’ve misrepresented myself.