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Submit to the Fear
Why are you in my line of sight?
I don't ever remember y’all lining up to see me when I was adrift. When I was floating in a stream of depression. You never reaching out but always asking how the money coming. Always asking when you’re getting your cut. Like bro you never saw me lost and torn up? No, not that you recall? Dude, I was like that just a minute ago. But that’s okay, I know, I am not a lit person. I’m not worth the stress.
My team look more like a duo and I am not expanding fast enough to make an impression or a big splash in the water. I'm hurting in every way. I don't want to be alive.
But I'm stuck.
I can't dip from reality. And I can't lose myself in a fantasy. I got to be real and steady in my moves. I got to be proud of my small gains. I got to be strong in my big losses. Because I know, I never take big wins and small losses.
No offense to life, no offense to the people who think that life is lit, but you’re not real. You must be faking it, you must be dodging it. I just don't see it the same way. I just don't see how you can see it.
Obviously I must have cracked the lens that I look through. Because when I see life, I see it in tiny, separate, broken pieces. I'm sorry if that is not a pleasant thought. But I feel every day the walls closing in on me.
The ones pretending they are enjoying life are more of the same, they all fake or screaming for help on the inside.
I mean I can't believe how many people don’t appreciate what you do, or how long you do it. They only focus on the things you miss. They only focus on the stuff you forgot to do.
But that’s what friendships are built on. They aren’t built on a collection of good memories but how many times all beef in a week. This is how people judge your character. Not by the times you held strong, but by the times you slipped up. This is how people judge your reliability. Not by the times you held strong, but by the time you let them slip up.
But they seem to forget that while I slipped up once, I busted my butt for it.
People forget though, at the same time I busted I butt, I kept them from busting theirs. I helped them prevent a mistake even when they didn’t do the same for me. People seem to forget the length I’d go for them and that gets crazy. That gets tiring.
I know that I'm tired of holding the bag for bums that won't even call me a friend.
So why should I call them friends and take the fall for things I know I'm better than. I’m done owning this chaos that I call my brain. All that goes on in my head is live die and repeat. I sound like a movie but that is how I see life. An endless horror movie with no good end in sight.
I can my future. I die alone and got no one to lean on.
Can't let people see me slip. That makes me a fake. All I want is to just vibe with someone. All I want is to be able to relate and unload. But that is petty. That is all about emotions.
If we being honest, I better kill those quick cause the world has no room for those. That is what myself told myself. But I didn't get the memo so now I'm here.
Depressed and fearful.
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I wanted to shed light on the fakes. I want to represent the few that care.