I don’t know what to do about myself.
It seems like nothing is really working anymore-
How i speak, write and feel- it obviously isn’t working.
How I’m sitting because the mosquitoes are attacking me.
It isn’t working that I’m speaking to nobody.

You know, what is working?
The light is working,
I have enough food in the kitchen.
I have a roof over my head.
I’m wearing clothes that I adore.
I have a lot of books from which I can study.

Things seem to be bad.
But then,
They’re not as bad as they could be.
I’m thankful for that.
I’m really happy for that.

Sometimes, happy isn’t enough.
Sometimes, you gotta be sad- real sad.
Sadness for each person is different.
My sadness is different from a person
Who cannot afford food.

My sadness is that I don’t know who I am anymore,
Who I will be,
who or what I will want.
Basically, I know **** about myself.
That is what my sadness is about.

I write about my emotions.
“Why don’t they work?
Why don’t they work properly?
Why don’t they work like I want them to work
Or sometimes, why do they work too much like I want them to work?“

It is just bad that
My emotions look like that to me.
And yes, I hope that I like “Imagine”
When it comes out on Friday.
I hope that “Imagine” works out for me.