I wish I were a box.

Not an elaborate, overly decorated box with an enormous bow on the top. But just a regular box.

Or rather I wish I could fit my life into a box.

Most people hate being labelled, marginalised. I long for it.

You see nothing makes sense in my world. I do not meet the criteria to fit into any catagory. I am a maelstrom of contradictions.

I am quiet and introverted. Lound and uncontrollably wild. Passionate and passive. Raging and numb. I am happy. I am angry. I am lonely. I am excited. I am afraid. I am confused. All at the same time.

I wish I were a box.