Confusion

I settle down on my bed watching the television with a mind that could run the border of the U.S and perhaps making a double trip but next by water and have miles to burn off of thoughts. What can I believe anymore? In what direction should I be headed in, that it requires planning? I intend not to. But mostly its those around me that make my days worth while. That fulfill my moments of weakness that I cannot comprehend. Mostly its because I want to create a world of my own. I want to be in charge of every action. And yet I love the mystery in it all.

I have had the most interesting conversations with my closest friends and learned so much that I myself am numb with an overdose of thoughts. My mind is a blur and I cannot think straight. Its a game, something I am not living but can control for only a few moments in the day. Ive unraveled into a face with only a blur. I wear masks created with sight of myself in the mirror. I cannot tell what it is i am feeling. It isnt me. I am not me but yet only a person posing as me. When me is somewhere else with waves of a different color of hair and eyes that arent as young as this me is potraying to the friends I no longer know nor have the want to meet them again.

Its all a lie. I cannot put it in words. What I am feeling is how I am thinking so those on the outside might be able to get the summary of it all.

And yet what is the point. I look at my screen as I am typing this and I think of what else to write or how to consume enough words to make a question for you.

Why are we who we are?

Is it what we do that makes us who we are?
Or
Who we are that makes us what we do?

The conversations are ringing in my ears as a strong reminder of how I couldnt feel anymore. Of how I went from being a loving, kind, person. To one who does not feel.

I smile but am I happy?
I forgive and forget, but did it bother to begin with?
You said your sorry but did I ever listen?

I think of things. No one knows what I think. They always think of the same thing. Im emo. But if they read what it is I wrote. If they for one second let themselves go would they realize that i am not talking about my feelings. That I am not depressed, but I am something of happy with other emotions. They do not. This isnt even what I am thinking. This blog post is just something to write. A way of viewing it from the outside. I guess. But I crave right now. It is a voice in the back of my head that does not ever intend to shut up or go away. It will grow louder.

Again. What is this for?????
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?
?
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?
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?
Why are we who we are?
Who knows anyone now and days. Im most certain not one single person knows me. And im not just saying that it really is true. Yes my favorite color is yellow, and i love cheeseburgers. But what do I want? WHat do I really want?

This was pointless. W/E i wrote atleast....