Dear Diary

"Life is painful and short, just one moment then it's gone
So please, teach us how to count our days coz when it's all said and done
We'll be held accountable for what we've said and done
And for all that was never done"
That applies for you same as it applies for me
The way I live my life quietly
Allows me to contemplate my present privately, silently, mindlessly
Eyes shut, zoning in and out of consciousness
Visualizing a path and it's consequence
Tryna convince myself that I'm an optimist
But the problem is, I'm just the opposite
Forever questioning my competence
Starving and targeting my confidence
It's like I reach into a dark abyss
Of nonstop doubt; question after question as I drift out of consciousness

Dear diary, how would u describe me?
Problematic or problem addict? Can I rightly
Claim to be everything I claim to be?
Or am I deceiving myself with nothing but vain beliefs?
Is it coz of my obsession with masks
My fear of revealing what the depths of me have?
Coz if I'm scared to have my hopes and dreams
Known to people close to me, is that potentially bad?
Dear diary, what of the potential I have?
Is the hunger to fulfill it a possession I lack?
The drive and ambition, where's the intensity at?
Is my enemy the inner me? Is my complexity bad?
Am I at odds with the person within?
Is my mind just playing tricks on me, circus-akin?
Can I make it out alive from this world that I'm in?
Can this crumpled up paper be perfect again?