One secret is too many and thousands are not enough

I told my friends that I went home so they can stop bothering me, I don't like to hang out with them, I just get tired of staying in my room sometimes: a secret.

I said that I don't care and I care a lot. I care so much that my brain has no capacity for other things: a secret.

I can't hang out tonight because the weather is bad and you are not worth the trouble: a secret.

I didn't reply because you have no use to me anymore and you are fat now: a secret.

I say things I don't mean all the time so that people would stop talking: a secret.

I hate seeing myself in the mirror, it reminds me that I exist and other people can see me: a secret.

I want to disappear and never come back: a secret.

I am not listening to you about what is going on with you and your ugly boyfriend or how's your family doing. I wish I can just be deaf for the moment. Sorry but you are boring: a secret.

I stare at the hot blonde girl in her short skirt as she walks away and wishes I am her: a secret.

I starve myself during the day and pig out at night: a secret.

I hate Drake's voice: a secret.

I hide behind the door when I hear my neighbors are in the hallway so I don't have to interact with them, maybe I have social anxiety and maybe I don't: a secret.

I am scared of eating alone with my active brain: a secret.

I ask you to leave because you are not fun to hang out with and not that hot either. I am done pretending to be interested: a secret.

I scoop peanut butter and eat them like ice-cream till I feel sick: a secret.

I compliment your art just to be polite. I roll my eyes at them because they are trash and I hate it so much: a secret.

I smile so that people think I am fine and don't ask what's going on: a secret.

I wonder what makes you so confident about what you are doing with your life because clearly you are not in control and everyone knows: a secret.

I wish I am dumb and rich and don't have to fight for a single thing in my life, to be born in a wealthy family and have no brain is my dream: a secret.

I think you are shallow and fake: a secret.

I never liked myself: a secret.

I used to masturbate to you but not anymore because it is just getting too sad too fast: a secret.

I screenshot your text message to laugh at you with my friends and regret not texting back the next day: a secret.

I only kiss you so that you would stop talking about yourself, just shut up already: a secret.

I never liked you but the rest are worse: a secret.

I lie to impress strangers that I know don't even care about me: a secret.

I can't smell anything: a secret.

I don’t want to go to Florida with you, I hate Disneyland and that is defiantly not the most magical place in the world: a secret.

I skip the songs that are in the playlist you made me when I could just easily delete the whole playlist: a secret.

I know what "see you around" means, but I still hope for you to text back the next day: a secret.

I am tired all the time and want to go home: a secret.

I thought you are special and we are going to be together. And blocked you the next day because of the idea of someone being irreplaceable scars me: a secret.

I love having meaningless physical attentions and judge the dumb couples that break up five times a month and the stupid girl that cries about her crush not liking her back all the time. I can keep myself entertained: a secret.

I think about the time you dropped me off at my place and I am too high to open the door. I flipped you off because you laughed at me. It makes me happy just to think about it: a secret.

I ignore you because I never take you seriously and you don't matter to me: a secret.

I pretend someone is watching me all the time when I am in public so that I have to act normal. I would walk around like a primal animal when there is slightly a sign of the world ending: a secret.

I copy other people's action and repeat what they have said to make them like me, I need their approval: a secret.

I lie about unnecessary things all the time because my audiences are full of themselves and wouldn't even notice that I lied: a secret.

I check myself in the mirror every morning to see if I am still fat: a secret.

I only have one friend and she lives across the world, other people that I call friends are just the people I know and I don't hate most of the time: a secret.

I thought I am gay and like this girl named Ruby from dorm but it turns out I just like her pretty face: a secret.

I don't want to be older and wiser, I want to be younger and hotter: a secret.

I pretend I am not myself to be done with the day: a secret.

Do you ever stalk people online? Whether it's your ex, your bully from kindergarten, or just your friend's friend that you only met once. Studies show that babies stare at strangers for a reason, it is because the person somehow stands out from the plain background and catches their attention. And I wonder what are the qualities of the person that lead me to start a fake account on Instagram, Twitter, or even Facebook just to have a peek of what are they doing with their lives. I love getting high on people. Not in a face to face way, but in a me laying in bed at 3 a.m. searching on google map of what your street looks like way. This might sound crazy but I know I am not the only one. Don't fetish shame me. It only takes one guy online to post that he loves feet to have a whole support group on Reddit.

I have three accounts on Instagram yet I never post anything. I love to know what their bedroom color is without them having a clue that I even exist. It's like when the roller coaster finally drops from the top, not even your skin can catch you. I remember looking for this cute guy's Instagram from math class one night. All I know is that his first name is Sam, what a basic name, thousands and millions of people name Sam. I started from the school's official account, I scroll through the following account, looking for him. There are 5 Sams but none of them is him. I repeated this procedure for his potential peers. Nothing. At this point, I don't even know what made me looking for his account, I am so lost in the action. I desperately needed to find him, it started as casual stalking but ended as a serious mission. I was about to give up, my eyes are sore and my patience is thin.

By the early morning, I succeeded, he is tagged by one of our multure friends. Sunlight shines through the blinds, birds chirp joyfully. I have been living in the dark, I scrolled from the first post of his account to the last. I pour the Sam water on my face, I stick the Sam iv-drip in my arm, I absorb some of that Sam dust, whatever to get me satisfied. Eventually, I realized that whether it's Sam or John or whoever, the person is never the goal here, their faces are pixelated. It's the longing and intrigue, this is about using people like drugs. The more information I find the higher I get. I am not obsessed with them romantically, I don't want to look into their eyes and have a meaningful conversation. I just need a target that is slightly better than the rest to fantasize about, to make me feel the rush, to past the time. This is my doggy treat for being alive.

An obsession a day keeps the meaningless nature of existence away

Every minute that I didn't spend on my bed brings me pain.

My bed is my whole world and I refuse to brush my hair.

I sniff around the bush.

I look into the trash for joy.

I find a banana peel covered in glitter,

I show my mom the treasure and ask her to stick it on the fridge.

Banana peel covered in glitter,

Used napkins with a celebrity's signature,

Half-eaten strawberry dipped in the golden syrup,

I go out every day to look into the trash for joy.

There is a lot of joy and then there isn't,

Then there is.

The joy spreads their disgusting smell in my room,

Rotten parts attract flies and warms.

My mom asks me to stop the nonsense.

I look into the trash for joy,

Trash is trash after all.

I throw them out and go back to my bed.

Then look for more the next day.

People who wake up and complete their daily routine without questioning it scares me. Do they know what's the point of this all? Are they just as confused as me, or do they know exactly what's going on every day? It is just okay to open your eyes every morning and do things? Why are there always things to do every single day? Give me a break from living, please. I am begging you. This isn't worthy of me dragging my body out of bed. Don't say good morning, your positive attitude is killing me.

"You need to live your life." Mom called the other day, "Don't just stay inside all day, you are in one of the greatest cities in the whole world, go exercise." And then what, I yelled in my brain, then what? Seriously, then what? Whenever I see something interesting, usually after two minutes, no doubt, the high goes away. It's like when you smoked a certain amount of weed, and it just doesn't do the job anymore, the tolerance goes up. Nothing excites me. My friend Adam says that it’s important to have someone or something to get you excited enough to do your shit. And he is absolutely right. There is no point in smoking weed if you don't get high from it, might as well save the money. It just seems a lot of trouble just for that two minutes of high. What's more important, the poor two minutes of high is not even guaranteed. Why even bother?

I have so many questions, I can't seem to function without solving them. Therefore I stop, I feed my brain with the old, dusted memories and fantasize about new magical fake scenarios that benefit me in every way, I tranquilize myself and ignore reality. The tiny projector in the back of the head plays my own customized romantic ideation, childhood wounding, and overactive fantasy life until it goes blank.

Clap if Alexa tell you to end it all

I want to live in infinity,

I leave my body to go on a field trip.

I drink the same can of diet coke.

I talk to the same guy that doesn't know how to pronounce my name.

I live in infinity,

dumb dry memories are dead.

And so am I.