Everything I say feels wrong and I want to not be seen rather than feel seen and ridiculed, even if only feeling ridiculed. I'm a stupid there are plenty of things I don't know, Spanish for instance, and lots of important things about life. I want to cry for nothing at all besides the combination of feeling small and insignifigant while simeltaneously feeling clumbsy, bulky, like I take up too much space, like I need too much space to live outside of my head and I care too god-damned much to just go live there alone. I am trying to live as honestly as I can. Wondering if I'm keeping secrets I get suspicious of myself, search myself for anything I might have forgotten that might matter at all. The truth is though that nothing matters. And I have lived the best as I could as it seemed at any given moment and it hasn't come even close to good enough, pathetically lacking in substance actuallly. This isn't anything, I just need more sleep.