The storm

I remember my childhood. I stood once at around 7 am in the morning and talked to a tree. I said too many things. I promised that I'll always have faith in God and in return, I asked the tree to grant me a wish or two, that's what I remember or what I think I remember. Now, I remember struggling to find a purpose for every morning at school. I wake up and I tell myself all sorts of things to be motivated. And for that, I observe people's motivations and I duplicate them in my unconsciousness so that they become mine. I struggled, never ever talked about these little things to anyone, I hid them, ignored them.. Moved on. Thinking maybe everyone had one of these little dark thoughts. Which is true but not like mine I suppose . Why? At my age, this behavior, this constant sadness, this darkness had resurfaced and it kept me from achieving a lot of things. A lot. I discovered that despite saying that I hate darkness so much, I defintely love it,I say that I want so bad to be normal but I actually hate that and I do everything to be different. That I enjoy tormenting myself yet I say, I don't. That I'm struggling and giving myself all sorts of lies and excuses not to heal. That I don't know what I want, that life is hard, that people are selfish and I'm not. That I am angry, that I am not here or there or anywhere. That I'm suicidal and I want to disappear. That I am who I am. That I am struggling. That I haven't learnt enough. That everything is complicated. That this is a mess. That I'm getting in the way if my salvation. That I hate myself, that I fight myself, that I am who I am. That life is quite a journey and that I'm not the first one to notice and write about that. That everything is what it is.. That I'm a part of something I haven't understood yet.
M. Brini