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Paranoia Call and Response

Fractured mind of a social-paranoid; call and response between the mind of one person

You wake up and you aren't happy to be in the same place...the same 50 inch room with the same beds and the same damn windows and the same fucking hard, wooden floor. And you're sick of all those voices in your head, and outside of it, telling you to shut the hell up and quit bitching.

You have to allow yourself 20 minutes extra when you wake up in the morning; just for time to lay in your bed and think about how you're going to get through another day of being set that alarm clock right.

It's not exactly that you hate your, you just hate yourself. For reasons unknown...too many times being made fun of as a child, too many times being rejected or cheated on by opposite sex, too many times being in your room alone...people who are liked are never really alone that much, are they? You think...all the time you think.

When you're finally out of bed, when your face eventually reaches a usually look away at first. As if you wake up disappointed in not having an entirely different face on...who is this? This skinny, pale fucked up looking mess. This kid who every professional doctor he (or she?) meets asks him (or her? I'll stop that eventually) if he/she has an eating disorder. You're too skinny...gotta get some meat on those bones.

But you don't want meat on your bones. You don't see the don't appreciate life, most people would're a selfish piece of shit...most people would say.

Most people just don't get why you're so sad. I don't get why you're so need to smile more, kid. You need to lift that chin up and take that hat off, baby. You need some confidence.

You don't want confidence. You don't want to care about anything because you can't seem to find something or someone to care back. You expect a perfect and beautiful woman/man to just waltz into your house and claim infatuation; only, I don't know if I have the heart to tell you that's not how it works.

And you can't fool much as you whine about it...secretly you like being shut up in your room, you goddamn psychopath. You like having only yourself to talk to, don't you? This way, you're never disappointed...this way you can never possibly say something stupid and embarrass yourself...because for some reason unknown to you, the thought of being not liked by anyone causes you to cower in fear.

But I hear matter what you say about yourself...I hear you. I hear you pray at night...asking whoever is "up there" to let your brain shut off...stop all this illogical, paranoid thinking. But you don't think it's illogical...your self-assuming-ugliness and self hatred are can't help it, can you? I mean...I have my moments where I want to bash into the room and scream you have plenty of reasons to smile for, that so many people have it so much worse off...yeah, me and everyone else.

But I dont.

And your mind doesn't work that easy, anyway. It's not that simple. Even though, in a way you're entirely selfless, you're also extremely selfish. You can't explain it and it seems nobody else can.

When you walk into a public think all eyes are on you. You can't walk into a fucking McDonald's without worrying the manager there, as if his/her opinion actually matters, is looking at you funny...if he/she thinks you have a weird shirt on; or your pants are too tight; or your hair's too dark; or your skin's too pale and so on and so forth and yadda yadda yadda.

But secretly, you don't want to fix yourself up. You won't go to the gym anymore than you'll eat a vegetable. I think, and don't mind me, that you relish in looking like a mess.

Or maybe you think there are more important things to care about...and impressing some girl or some random stranger just isn't worth it...

...But you think everyone hates the way you look and obviously it is worth it to what are you? You don't make sense, to anyone. Your conflicting ideologies and thought processes make me want to punch you in the face, and hug you til you feel happiness all at the same time.

Nobody can force you to love yourself...and quite frankly, I'm not sure giving you attention and having a bunch of girls/guys want you in bed would make you say, 'damn, I am good looking and I am a good person.'

So how can we fix you?

I want to...but how?

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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