Good morning, Sleepyhead.

I don’t expect everyone to understand me because there is this urge that’s pushing me.
I have to prove myself that I am not lying when I say “I am alive.”
I want to really feel things and be really invested into what is happening in my life.

Because, you know, this is all we have, and I want my life to be extraordinary and I want to be loved and understood. Not because of other people, but because of myself, mostly -out of selfish hedonism.

No, no, this is not selfish; I don’t do everything just for myself .Now I am just thinking in circles, being hard on myself for being me.
Anyway, who doesn’t want to be loved and understood? It’s completely normal. There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s just that I think more and feel more than most people -and if I believed that this was only in my head then I would try to snap out of it and remind myself that everybody cares so much… but everyone tells me that most people do not -not like me anyways. They tell me: “You over-think and overanalyze things, and you care too much about everything. You need to think less, you know?”
No, I don’t know. I don’t understand how other people function. They seem like machines. I want to tell myself that they are sad and happy and wonderful but I still feel like they are different. Just because I am outnumbered it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try to live to the fullest -and as far as I’m concerned, that involves fighting the general apathy of the world and the mundaneness of everyday routine. Or maybe I am full of shit and nobody should listen to me, ever.