I, on a sporadic burst of insanity and inanity (is there such a word?) decided to look at my ranking for the Amaths quizzes we did on acelearning.

I wish I didn't.

Being such a copetitive and a person used to getting nearly the top in everything, being average was...disorienting. I felt strange. My saliva suddenly tasted sour, the sour of scid and air.

I don't know. I'm not used to such competition. Suddenly I have to fight hard everyday just to remain at the top, and fight off my descension to insanity.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of putting on a smile for everyone to see every single damn day, I'm tired of pretending to be approchable and have humour I don't have at the moment, I'm tired of people not getting my jokes and drama + sarcastic humour, I'm tired of being an enigma, I'm tired of being a wallflower that fades into the shadows, and I'm tired of being nobody.

I'm trying to find my Identity. I know my name but I don't know who I am. I don't know what I am known by in other's eyes, and I'm tired of being judged every single millisecond of my life, and I detest and adore being alone by myself in class.

Being alone does help to clear my thoughts and help me relfect, a very essential thing for me as a wannabe writer. But it leaves me to my demons. There is nobody to distract me from my suicidal intentions and my depressing thoughts, no one who can actually uphold a conversation I am interested in, no one to save me from myself.

Yes, I am capable of feeling happy and content. I am. But I can't shake off those bouts of melancholy anymore. It's not that easy. It's suffocating me.

I'm so tired of fighting. I just want to give up and slink off to a dark corner to lick my wounds. So tired, so tired, so tired of having to keep up, so tired of having to study constantly, so tired of being lonely, so exhausted and weary of the phantoms that live through my characters I create.

So tired.

I am seriously getting suicidal, it's just that I haven't started slashing, because I have enough scars on my body and I do not need a couple on my wrist, the most important part of my body I treasure, because my watch and bracelets sit on it and i write with my hand and I play my flute and i look at my veins and i know i'm alive.

Just let me die already. I've seen all there is to this world-- there is more suffering and those imagined path to alleviate suffering (nothing but palliating the symptoms, and depriving oneself), so there is nothing else to live for. Nothing. I can depend on nothing but my mind.

Lit is the only thing keeping me sane. It is only when I immerse myself in another world when I feel completely at peace, trying to interact and dissect all the characters and the subtle nuances of the story. It is for this very reason I became addicted to manga. Simply for the immersion.

But after that, it's nothing. I feel pain in my thighs and my calves and I awake screaming with my empty throat. I sleep with my screams in my head. I dream about death, being pursued, dying myself and dying people. The streets are littered with the dying. The embers of heaven have long died out. Hell is a myth. There is nothing for us to go to or seek solace in the fact that we know what is waiting for us beyond death's door.

I awaken sometimes to see my pillow is soaked with tears I can't remember shedding throughout the course of night. Is it sweat? Impossible, since I sleep in an air-conditioned environment.

I'm getting desperate. I need to believe in something.

But not religion. I cannot handle another misplace of trust, because I'm sure I'll break.

It is those with the strongest exteriors that are the weakest within.

Sometimes I wonder, almost dazedly in between lessons and my conscious mind, a drifting of thoughts and emotions, whether anyone will miss me if -just the very possibility if- I died.

Probably not.

I feel empty. Just...nothing. As I transcribe these words onto the keyboard, I feel a subtle shift, and nothing. I hold my breath for one minute - exhale, inhale-, hold it for another, -exhale, inhale- repeat while walking, just to feel my heart pumping furiously to supply oxygen to every part of my body. To feel the pain. To feel something other than the sun sneering down at my back.

Tomorrow I have my church class. I don't want to go, but I havr to, because I'm forced by obligation of a religion I don't even want to be in.

Isn't it amazing how sometimes we curse God and yet sometimes we thank him. Odd, indeed, even for one who doesn't believe.

Never mind.