📼 MAX 📼

ALT I don't feel like a person. I look like a person. I act like a person. But when I attempt to investigate the core of my being it is vague and painfully ungraspable. An assemblage of whispering, cryptic, malformed spectres. Every time I speak I'm not sure if my words actually mean anything.

ALT Sometimes, it feels as though people have been humouring me for my entire life, pretending to understand me in an effort to placate me and mask the profound discomfort caused by my presence. This feeling even seeps into my closest relationship. Any expression of love or kindness towards me feels unearned because it feels like I have conned or tricked people into liking me.

ALT If I ever stop engaging them, even for a moment, they will catch a glimpse of what lies beneath: a rickety, incomplete idea shaped like a man. All I am is a series of introjections take from people that actually seem to have developed a distinct identity. I know none of this is true. I know just by being human, that I contain a spark of the divine.

ALT I just wish the spark was easier to find amidst the sea of shrieking ghosts that occupy my body. I want to see it one day, but until that day comes I will continue to perform in the role of me and hope nobody notices...