I post on Tumblr when I’m depressed, or when I’m lonely. If you look back on my archive you can see my depression grow and fade and return. It’s always strongest in the winter months. It is the seventeenth minute of the twelfth day of Spring. I hope it will be better than the eleventh. I’m scared of the twelfth day. I’m never lonely in the sense that most people understand. I have people who want to see me, people who care about me, people who want me to get better. The wall between myself and the world is not a lack of intimacy in my life, it is me. I hope one day I never post on Tumblr again and just live a fulfilling life in the so-called real world. Right now it does not seem so real to me.
Perhaps everything is too real. Perhaps I can only cope with the superficial.
