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Even I, when asked to put it in words, don't know everything about myself. So why have you stopped trying to find out everything you can about me? There's so much you don't know, but the real tragedy is that you don't want to find out. while random strangers in chatrooms do
I want to understand you so much that I wish I were telepathic. I want to be understood so much that I am obsessed with trying to write as close to actual thought as possible. The things you learn about a person after you think you know everything about them are the most interesting. I want to know why you don't want to learn these things about me.
I have always been alone, and I am best so. But living inside my head can only go on for so long – eventually someone needs to look in there to see if I am still alive, and what I have been doing. Because if you don't, how would you know I am still there?
I am not looking for attention. I am not demanding tit for tat. I am not depressed.
I am lonely.
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