My Feelings

Me

I love art,

I love things that can interest me,

I love reading,

I love being me,

But something's wrong,

You know people around me,

Know,

And think I'm a cheery, a friendly and a all-the-time-happy person.

Is that all?

Isn't that a bit too bland for me having that kind of life?

Well I change,

I always think my life's written by somebody

From another world,

Just like when people write a life story,

They think they made a fiction book,

But actually they made that story a reality in another world.

Back from the topic,

As I said I change,

I change my personality often,

I kind of have the fetish of seeing someone's reaction to something,

Creepy right?

Though tricking people can also fool one's self,

I got to see

Hear

And know,

The bad things they, 'friends',say about me.

I hate it,

I came to minimize my very existence,

I barely talked to new people,

I rarely say new stuff about me,

I knew there's no point anyways in telling them,

Letting them know is like digging my own grave,

Blackmail perhaps,

After this year

I'm going away,

Away,

Where I'll be me.