I’m tired of myself. Tired of my sin and tired of how it seems like walking out the front door changes who I am. The person who beileve’s in God and who struggles to do right is shoved aside when I leave my own house. I don’t understand. It’s like my room where I do my most deep prayers, feels like another world. Like a place outside of time where it’s just me and God. Like my whole neighborhood is a bubble. Where I hear and feel God truly. Usually at home I have a problem with over thinking. I go to school and it’s like I’m not thinking enough. I don’t get myself. How can I be so passionate about something but act like it doesn’t exist around others? Then I do things that make me feel bad inside. Like I have a bag of rocks on my shoulders. And sometimes it’s too much. To be honest I’ve thought of what it would be like to end my life. I don’t think I would, but it’s crossed my mind. Writing it out it doesn’t seem like much. But inside, what I feel and struggle with can’t be put into words.