I'm not sure if I can keep up the pace.

I've been... struggling with a few problems for a while now, and I hoped they'd eventually settle themselves out, or get better, but it's apparent more than now that it'll only get worse from here.

I've been drifting away from the people I love it feels, a stranger in my own skin, connected by strings loose and flimsy.

My mind feels like it's eating itself away, my memory becoming foggier and foggier as the years past, and I've only been around for 16.

I don't have the best situational awareness, and the only moments of clarity I'd ever had were in my darkest times.

My hands are tired, yet yearn for the love of an embrace that comes every once in a blue moon.

My games feel like tasks now, drawing is my only safest avenue to express, and no one will see it.

The eyes I search for look away at my own, their gaze belongs to others.

And I'm afraid.

To be sad.

To be angry.

I've sunk so deep into a mokery of myself, I don't remember how to be genuine.

I don't remember the last time I was truly happy.

And I fear that I'll never remember.