"Why are you so quiet?"

Timeless question that people would always ask me:

"Why are you so quiet?"

...

...

...

Because I'm scared?

Scared of what you think of me, what you perceive of me.

Scared of myself—what I'm gonna do to myself, what I'm gonna do to you, if I ever truly let go.

Scared of leaking my rawest, most visceral thoughts out to the world.

I never wanted to be the villain.

But I feel like I'm gonna be, when I allow myself to speak, or to do what this identity desires.

So I hold back. And let you live instead.

I have so many things to say, but I'll just keep it to my grave.

It's safer that way, I suppose.

It's funny... that I, too, sometimes hide from myself because of how intense they are.

I get jumpscared by my own thoughts, you don't even wanna know.

Not sure if it's because of a heavy emotional repression, but still... it's not mild at all.

It's exhausting to carry them all for all these years. Where can I put them down? And when?

Sometimes, I think I need a reboot, a restart, a refresh, or a whole cathartic exorcist ritual or something to cleanse me completely.

It's crazy that I'm only 24 at this point. What would I feel when I get to 40 or 70?

How much more would I carry? How much more can I take?

My dark under eyes could answer it for me, probably. Or the hollowness of my chest.

I can't believe I get to a point in life where I get proud of myself for barely eating during a whole day.

I used to think that people who do that are stupid. I guess I am now.

The sun is still shining, the birds are still chirping, the wind is still blowing, and the river is still flowing.

Life is so fun, cheers!