there is only one thing that stays constant in my life, and that's fiction.

today, on the very moment when i write those words, i am on the edge of a cliff that will sign the chaos of my life.

it's been three days, wandering around like a dead soul searching for a place to continue.

three days rumbling and collapsing as i try to climb with anything that i can reach with my small arms.

i am lost in a way that i haven't been for a very long time and i don't know how to handle it, how to make things right and not feel like a complete mess.

i am just tired. tired of things, of people, of the strength that leaves me in the worst moments. i am tired of beating what i am sometimes, i am tired of having to be everything that the world wants me to.

i am just sick of living in stress, in fear.

so i retreat from this reality.

i go to fiction.

i travel to fictional worlds, these worlds where i can be all but myself, where i can build a new person to go on and move in the right way of life.

i dream of becoming as clever as sherlock, as powerful as any Chosen One from any fantastic book, as human and true as Tris, as brave as Katniss...

i live my life in fictional worlds invented by others but also by myself.

i just wander in my own head, trying to be everything that i am not just to feel less... something.

i don't live in reality, i believe i never have.

i simply don't know how to not consider my life as if i am writing a book about it.

i just don't know.

and sometimes, like today, it kills me.

it ruins me from the inside, burns every piece of joy that emerges, splits every group of emotions into thousands of pieces to disassemble the revolution against this sadness.

i am sad.

too much.

i just can't help it.

i want to find comfort somewhere, somehow. to loose myself in something and disappear.

stop hearing my thoughts.

stop thinking.

stop feeling sorry for myself.

living another life through fictional characters.

living in a world that's not real just to avoid the one that is.