Don’t know what’s with 2am that gets people all depressed. That gets you walking down the memory lane, that gets you recalling all the bad and wrong decisions you’ve ever done.
That makes you wanna die. That makes you want to end it all. That makes you think there’s this perpetual agony inside you. That gets you thinking nothing makes sense.
I wrote this without really thinking about anything. Usually when I write, I’ve thought about what to write—and I don’t like that process, because I gradually forget what it is that I wanted to write about when I begin typing. The momentum goes away so easily.
I was holding my phone and I opened my notes. I thought about writing at an earlier hour. I don’t usually go through what I wrote but as I typed this, I remembered how every night, past midnight, my thoughts start slipping into the darkness. And then I write about things. When I wake up the next day I wonder what the hell hit me that night.
Because the truth is, I’m not miserable. I say I’m not good with words, but I’m good at making people think I am miserable through my writing. Or maybe this was all a part of that—me convincing myself that I’m not miserable, contributing to an even larger misery.
Social media really gets you thinking you’re doing it wrongly or badly. As much as I want to shun all sources of my negative feelings, I refuse to rid of the connections. I might go insane.