What's gonna kill me one day, would be my own mind.

Have you ever thought, what if you found a book. A book with a title of your name. A book that writes about your entire life. Your story, your emotions, your thoughts. Would you pick that book up to read? Or would you just walk away? Have you imagine how your book will be like? Interesting or boring? How engaging would my book be to others?

Then I tell myself, I need to stop thinking.

It's always like that. It happens to me. I keep thinking and I over think and within me, just feels empty. Then here's the tricky part, I get upset at absolutely nothing to begin with & I don't know how to be happy later on. See that? How I'm stupidly making my life horrible by my own means and then not knowing how to fix it.

I really don't want any more of dramas, don't want any more of those guilt stricken feeling. The thought of wanting to be happy became an obsession. So much, that I hate how stupid some quarrels/fights came about.

Stop.

"I want to erase them all. But I also wanted to be them all, and I could not erase them and want to be them at the same time."

My entire mind is a maze, that even I can't break though.