Some things follow me around. They’d appear out of nowhere, and they’d start talking about things I don’t want to think about. Things my inability to have friends, or to fall in love, or to believe in other people. I try hard to not think of those things. But to them, releasing these thoughts are easy, too easy in fact. With enough of thoughts like this, I’m forced to lay lifeless on the cold hard floor. These things would disappear; if I’m lucky enough that is. But most of the time they’d stick around longer, and destroy the peace of mind I’ve tried so hard to maintain. Their voices are silent and nobody hears them talking but me. I don’t know why, but these things love to follow me around.
Sometimes they’d bring up small and unimportant things. But fuck me, even the most unimportant things become painful to think of when repeated over and over again. One small mistake, like forgetting to return a book to the library, could feel like stealing a whole rack of books. They’d bring up one small mistake I made, and then say that what I did was more than that. They’d appear, they’d torment me with my own thoughts, only to disappear without a trace. I hate myself for not being able to handle them. I want them to go away. Why are they so persistent on making my life harder than it already is? I’m starting to think this is a curse. What was I talking about again?
I apologize, but, they’re here right now. Even when I’m talking to you about them, I can’t really explain what they are or what they do clearly to anyone. They’re just too much. Too much. These things are everywhere, they can’t die. At least I think they can’t. I don’t know for sure about that, but maybe they can’t. Can they die? I don’t know. But I want them to go away, I can’t stand them, help me. I hate every waking minute I spend around them, help me scare them off. They’re scary. I didn’t call on them, why did they appear? Why can’t they go away? Who are they? What are they? These things are everywhere.
This is a mistake. Explaining them to you was a mistake. Maybe you know them, maybe they’ve been haunting you longer than they’ve been terrorizing me. But maybe you don’t, and maybe knowing about them would lead them to you. And I shouldn’t let the thought of their existence bother anyone else, but what else could I do? I’m sorry for bringing this up. They forced me to do it. I apologize, again, I don’t want them to come for you too. I’m a victim of their terror. Don’t be like me. Forget everything I said.