lonely freewrite

if i were to be honest with myself, i would admit that i'm unhappy. i dont like my life the way it is, i dont like myself the way i am. i feel lonely all the time, even when in a big room of people. sometimes big rooms feel the loneliest. i want to be someone's most important thing. but i want it to be someone who's also my most important thing. i dont think ive ever had that. if i were to be honest with myself i would admit that im lonely. this place is lonely. while walking to work, i heard the trees creaking- the wind was pushing their limbs back and forth, back and forth. i couldn't decide if that was their way of talking to eachother, or if they were about to break and snap in half. i like to be pessimistic- no, wrong word. positive. i like to be positive. when i think im going to have a bad thought, i try to talk myself out of it. if i think i am going to spend the whole day hiding in bed, i try to scold myself out of it. but if i were to be truly honest with myself, my biggest flaw is my lack of discipline. i cant get myself to do shit for shit. so i spend the days dreaming, and in my dreams, i have no body, just a spirit. and that spirit walks down empty streets and hides in city alleys and loves flowing water and taking the subway. my dream spirit has a jar where they keep all the teeth that fall out in their open palms, and sometimes they take that jar out to admire the sharp, white teeth, and smile their toothless grin and say, "how pretty."