Thoughts of a Teenage Girl

babbling

My thoughts seem a little hollow lately, like someone crept into my room while I was asleep and took a melon baller to my brain then left with little stringy pink clumps. Never mind the fact that our brains have a mushroom like consistency, mines a little scrambled as of late. Then again, maybe it always has been. I should know myself better than anyone, I AM myself. But its difficult for me to try and dissect myself since I'm not quite sure who that is anymore. When you aren't sure you know yourself, you're a little hesitant to start ripping layers of skin off, a little uneasy at the thought of taking a peek at your inner workings. Afraid of what you might discover down in the depths of your being. Terrified that you might find some gruesome monster building a home in you. Thus becoming disgusted by your metaphorical insides. Or worse, you are frightened that you will discover there is nothing inside you at all. That all these years you have actually been as hollow  and as empty as you felt. Although, above all that, you are fearful of the truth, knowing the truth means you have to come to grips with it.