There will be a number of entries that are given that caption.
It doesn’t matter what my mind settles on, it still races.
If I had something alcoholic, I’d drink it just to get a little loopy and tired.
But I’m already tired.
And sometimes I feel keyed up.
Bipolar? Maybe? Crazy? Definitely.
I don’t want to be the crazy if i could just be authentic.
I don’t know what brought it on, but I feel.. fake.
Like I’m in the wrong skin. There’s no comfort here,
not within the walls of my mind or the confines of my body.
Just feeling thin, and over-wrought, and yet placid and lazy.
What good am i to anyone when i’m like this?
~Luna
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