I talk to myself.
It’s funny why I do it. I mean, one of the many reasons why you talk to people is get to know them. I talk to myself. Don’t I know myself?
I don’t know myself. I don’t get myself. I don’t understand myself.
Because there are two different shadows following me. Two different souls inside of me. Sometimes, I’m a different person from what I’m used to be. But what am I really used to being? How can I tell which one from these two different persona is really me?
How can one second I’ll be the happiest weirdo in the planet and then all of a sudden, I have the overflowing urge to killing everything around me? How can one second I’ll be smiling and one second, I’ll be kicking you in the eye? How can I be in love with a certain guy then wanting to throw a dictionary at him at the same time? How can that be? How can sometimes I feel like I know everything, I know which path I’ll be taking then feel like I’m a stupid goat for even thinking about it?
I don’t know.
I guess it’s because we can’t really dictate what we want to be, what we should be, and what we ARE. It’s innate to be something or someone but it’s a much more complicated matter by BEING someone. We are a LOT of someones inside a body of someone. Do I make sense? I don’t know.
I can’t know. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW.
Wait. I do.
That’s why I talk to myself.
And myself talk back to me.
Crazy, I know.
Maybe that’s the one thing which is permanent with me. Being crazy.