I’m not sure from who or where to run.
I’m not sure where to hide.
But that’s what I feel, an intense feeling of inadequacy. It is not worthlessness or a lack of self-value.
It’s unsuitable for the purpose of coexisting in this world. Or maybe for the “simple” fact of existing. I’m not sure.
But I want to run. I want to run and hide.
Sometimes it feels as if every step I take comes with a toxic-diffuser activation mechanism. An arrangement of parts that triggers the worst undertones in others.
The connotations of my actions and words are mostly misunderstood. The difference with what is really happening inside of my head is not slight or subtle. What others figure out and what I mean are totally different tones and colors.
Yes, I do have the ability to see through others; I can read them.
Yes, I have knowledge of people’s weaknesses. I see everything, even the smallest things. I don’t always choose to say what I pick up, though. I figure out what kind of person is in front of me and then keep quiet.
Because I became aware of the fact that others tend to define me wrong.
I want to run and hide.
I want to run and hide so I don’t have to keep struggling with the complexity of my own emotions and those that belong to you.
So I don’t have to explain anymore that I’m both deep and shallow, sensitive and cold-hearted, a thinker and a feeler… that my mind is perplexing and I find peace in darkness. That I romanticize desperation and disappointment, that the pain I feel while bleeding on the floor is reflected in my tormented choices of music, art, writing… That I don’t find those “sad”, but powerful, profound, and inspiring.
I want to run and hide.
So my intensity does not destroy you, so that my strong internal world does not force your persona to crumble… so that your mask doesn’t fall and you get exposed.
I just want to run and hide, because I’m tired of always deep down myself already knowing the truth.