Friday

I've been reflecting a lot on the state of, well, me. i've come to the conclusion that I actually don't know who I am anymore, and at this point, I'm not really sure I want to know me. This isn't suicidal. If it was, I'd make it a poem and plaster it in as many angsty poet groups as I could. No, this is merely me realizing that I'm no longer me.

I've become an amorphous lump of every character I'm trying to write. I mean, I'm not even sure what my personality traits are anymore, or if I'm happy with the way I look or dress. I'm fine to a certain degree, but then I have thoughts that aren't mine. I KNOW this. And its so odd to know that you're thinking like someone else.

Anyways, the main section of this rant (if anyone even reads or responds to journals anymore) is, does anyone else feel this? How do you deal with it?

Seriously, stressing me out, dude. All answers would be greatly appreciated, even if its just someone telling me I'm fucking crazy. Thanks..