you are a fool, you are the wild imagined hallucination of a wicked mind, suffering quetly, crying at nights, dying inside and hiding it all under infinite layers of sarcasm and suicidal jokes. because who in the world, what a fool would think such a happy person could not be as happy as they seem, huh? and you smile and you cry and you do not eat as much as you used to, and you sleep little enough to make the dark circles look like shadows and then bruises and then dark holes where the skull's eyes should be, and you smile and you joke and you laugh it off like nothing happened and you get used to this mask hiding your face, and your soul, and your mind. and people stop asking you "what's wrong" and "are you feeling well" and "how much have you slept today" and if these things are love, then you're the loneliest person in the world. then you start vomiting after every meal, and coffee mugs are stacked on your table and around your bed because you keep having these bad dreams over and over, and then you just stop going outside, and no one asks you questions. so you go up and you see the most beautiful sunset in your life, and you take a step forward, and then you fall endlessly, and then you reach the ground.
