Everytime someone asks us that question. Are we always forced to say I’m fine?
Maybe yes. Maybe not.
But today someone asked me how I was. I said I’m okay.
I wasn’t okay at all. I’m way out of focus. Though I slept the entire night yesterday from 8pm to 5 in the morning today. I still feel the stubborn fatigue that you don’t even know where on earth came from. You just want to stare blankly into space, drift into your thoughts, cry in public, tell the world how simple you want your life to be, but you don’t.
You keep them all to yourself. Keep them until it bursts right at your face.
Sometimes you want to tell someone you hate them. Positively and negatively whatever. It eases up the tension thats been growing inside you. But it only makes everything so much worse.
You want to be honest sometimes. Tell them how you hurt and how you’re just as human as they are. That you have feelings and idealisms that get hurt all the time. But being honest never quite made them understand.
Or maybe the world just doesn’t care about you.
And you care too much about the world and the people around you. But they don’t. Thats the problem about caring so much. You care so much and get hurt just as much.
Where am I leading with this post? I don’t know. Maybe to the idea that; even when we try to act all fine and good. Deep inside there’s always something killing us. A problem is always around. And it’s our choice if we will face it or succumb to it. Our choice if we let the world make us feel like we’re alone or enjoy the company it has been giving us. It is our choice if we’ll care so much and hurt that much.
And I guess it was my choice.
PS I don’t expect anyone to learn from this. I just needed to let it out of my train of thoughts.