Why I write?

My mind is full. I cannot memorise new things. New names, new people, old people , old names, everything, anything. I have lost my brain power. Lectures, art, books, whatever I have seen, whatever I have read. I can’t comprehend anything new. I feel fucking stupid. Where did I lose my old self? He was the best. He was stupid too; but he came out on top. I can’t even take the first step. Past me never wanted to scream. Present me only wants to do that; but I am not even strong enough to scream anymore. I am just waiting for this to be all over and it seems like my whole life is gonna be this way. Am I just waiting for my death? I don’t want to die. I just have some problems. Everybody has some problems. I just need a breakthrough in my life and get it stable.

I have also lost sense of time. I cannot figure out how long ago a thing happened if it resides in my memory. Yesterday feels like long ago and childhood feels like two days ago. Always tired, breathless. Full of feelings that I don’t know how to share. That is why I write. Don’t know anything else. You probably don’t think like me and you probably can’t understand what I just said. Trust me, good for you.

I have a voice in my mind. It’s mine. I can’t handle it. It wants me to do things. But I don’t have the strength to do them. I feel like I am out of practice. I need motivators. I need supporters. I need my mind. I need my body. Only thing I have are my thoughts. But they don’t correspond with anybody else. I am going to live alone forever. Then I am going to die. Sometimes I try to share my thoughts with people. They suddenly lose interest and feel alienated. Over time, I feel alienated. Now I feel I will never have a female companion. To keep her interested, I need to keep my thoughts from her. What else can I do? I make jokes, make her laugh; but every time she laughs, I am the one who keeps falling. At the end of the day, I don’t even know if she likes me. At least I got the day to spend with her. The thought of it alone has changed my mood. I can’t even write my serious thoughts any further. I feel the sudden urge to make a joke. I am going to stop here.

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