because there are a few moments while I’m breathing that I think just for a second it would be nice to not have to be an introvert all the time, it would be nice not to be exhausted by all the noise and bustle and life that’s always happening. but I’m so stuck inside my head, I don’t think you understand how that is. because we all have our own ideas of what’s good and what’s best and what we need right now and it makes perfect sense (not always) to us and why can’t other people just understand that but I’m so tired and so tired and so tired and sometimes I just want to crawl into my bed and not get out for a really long time and no I don’t want company and no I don’t really want to talk about it. and I have no idea why I have so much to give when it comes to some people but others are just the most draining. and sometimes I don’t want to be a person any more. I don’t want to think. let me be Scarecrow before the trip to Oz. Or Tinman. Or Dorothy when she still thought there was no place like home but before she actually got there. Because maybe the longing is better than the disappointment.
there are so many things I can’t think about because I feel the wrong things.