Sleepy

The stage is set. The audience is waiting. The script is prepared. The plot is flawless. The main actress... wants nothing to do with it.

Hi, my name is Hannah.

Not Courtney, not Jack, not emo, bimbo, wacko-freak, foo', petunia, llama -- just Hannah.

Most people look at me and see this... person... who would never stand up for herself. See this shy, timid individual. People who "get to know" me think I'm this insane, wacky girl who just never seems to grow up. People who "understand" me -- a very, very limited number -- find that I am this complex being who's mood is forever shifting towards the extremes.

But who am I really? Who, really, knows the real me?

Tonight I am sick of acting. Sick of being this somebody I'm not. Sick of wrapping myself up, so intensely, in these... these alter-egos. Sometimes, I don't even know myself anymore.

Its confusing. Depressing. Exhausting -- these switch persona's of mine. I'm becoming so much of somebody I am not, that I am forgetting who I really am:

Hannah.

But again, who, or what, makes me, Hannah Nasir, Hannah Nasir?

Moments like these, for one. Sitting reminiscing over life. Absorbed in thought. Overcome with content. Brief satisfaction. A mere pit-stop in which I allow myself moment to catch my breath before plunging, head-first, into the icy waters of my other halves.

Tonight, however, I am taking a break. I'm sick and tired of pretending -- always, always pretending. Sick and tired of listening -- always, always listening. Sick and tired of nodding my head in understanding, offering words of advice, smiling, acting all perky, secluding myself in a corner whenever I am pissed.

Truth is, I am not happy. Not miserable or angry or as clueless as I make myself look, either.

In truth, I am this... entity... who is so tainted by the outside world. The real me wants freedom. Longs solitude. Yearns content, satisfaction, relief.

The real me...

...just really, really wants to go to sleep.