The chaos I keep inside

Tbh, I don’t remember a lot of stuff, but some things just never stick. Like, I read this book once that said, "People don’t remember what you say; they remember how you made them feel." And honestly? I 100% agree 'cause I’ve totally felt that. Idk how some people remember their whole childhood so clearly—it’s like a dream to me. Actually, more like a nightmare.

When I see people wishing they could relive their childhood, I’m like, wow, their childhood must’ve been amazing. Mine? Nah, I wouldn’t even wanna think about it. It’s kinda a blessing that I have a goldfish memory. Like, how do people even remember the faces and voices of people who’ve passed away? For me, moments I spent with them feel like blurry dreams—faces out of focus, memories incomplete, like half-remembered nightmares.

And then there are smart people. Like, what’s it even like to have a brain that works that fast? For them, life must be a breeze—understanding stuff in school, solving equations, or explaining things to others. They’re just... built different. They don’t need to try too hard; they just know they’re right or wrong, and convincing others? Easy. Their confidence is unmatched. And their parents? Even if they don’t say it, they must feel so proud. But let’s be real, smart people don’t even need validation—they get what they want through sheer brainpower.

Then there’s me, stuck trying and hoping but never really getting there. I know, no matter how hard I try, I’ll never measure up to them. It’s like I’ve already given up before starting. I know it’s wrong, but what can I do? "Someone who’s desperate enough to die has already felt what it’s like to live."

And let’s talk about communicating with people. It’s so hard for me to explain myself because it feels like everyone just wants to be understood first. That’s why I always try to listen to others, especially when they talk about themselves—maybe they don’t have anyone else who really listens. But now it’s like I’ve forgotten how to talk about myself. Inside, my mind is so loud. I talk to myself so much that my own brain gets tired, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop the chatter.

The weird thing? I can’t share any of this with others. It’s like the words just vanish. And maybe that’s a good thing because as long as you keep your pain to yourself, you’re in control. But the moment you share it? It stops being a private struggle and becomes a spectacle.

Still, I wonder... am I losing it? Or maybe I already have.