Romanticising the potrait of being a depressed artist

I don’t believe it’s anything new to romanticise almost everything in your life nowadays just for the sake of coping with life but sometimes it sure is a wonder how far is too far.

I’m 16 and can be a rather quiet person at school except when I’m talking to people I’m close to. I’m awkward and conversation scares me sometimes. My hobbies include journaling which I do rather often and drawing which I am not the best at. I own a keyboard but only know how to play the same 4 chords and nursery rhymes. I have “friends” but nobody I know actually truly understands me in the way I want them to. I sleep at around 12am to 1am almost every night. I have eyebags under my eyes. I’m not pretty but I wouldn’t claim myself to be downright ugly either. I don’t have a lover, romance is too complicated to me and I have no valuable time for a relationship. How could I love anyone when nobody can love me the way I do? 

I am not a poet but I wish I could be, sometimes I pretend I am despite having written only a few poems. I’m bad at words when talking but I could write a meaningful paragraph if you let me. I believe I have everything in life that the average person would want yet I am still in misery. Misery makes good art they say, I’m not exactly sure who they refers to but I know they exist. My undesirable looks and depressing features is an excuse for me to label myself as some tragic philosopher who doesn’t get enough sleep, guess which one is a truth and which is the lie. I listen to music, all sorts, maybe all of it, well not really. I collect CDs and cassettes as it’s the only few things in my life that give it some sort of meaning. Everyday feels the same, repetition terrifies me. Sometimes I feel a surreal experience when I take in the people and surroundings around me, making things almost unfamiliar and unconcievable for a moment or two but I’ve always known these people so why does everyone sometimes feel so foreign to me?

Label me edgy or weird or peculiar but none of those comments are new. I’m young and have so much more to see but I’m way too self aware to ignore my current behaviour which I’ll regret in the future. Life’s not exactly enjoyable that way to say the least. My thoughts are a mess and a bundled up into piles of rubbish. I stay inside too much, the outside world is terrifying. People are scary and on some days I dislike most people equally. People can be so kind, sometimes I wonder if I deserve to be treated such a way. Everyone confuses me, the human mind is complicated. Everything confuses me.

Life is absurd.

-Statiscit 22/8/2024 [6:47am]