often

i feel like i’m always thinking more than most people. my internal monologue screams. and other people are just floating along; they have no idea how real everything is.
the ones who do see it are the ones like me, the smart ones, the sad ones. i hang out almost exclusively with smart people, and we are mostly also sad people, and we have internal monologues that shout and we are real.
sometimes i’m terribly afraid that i’m broken and other times i think that the un-broken people are missing some vital element of our experience.