I’m not ok, but I’m ok. This seems to be at odds, but a bit like superposition, both are true.

The fact is I’ll never be ok. This emptiness inside, these nightmares that follow me into the awake, this rage that I hide, but is always there… I’m not ok, and I hate the question. There is no real answer. Any answer it’s a lie or partial one.

But it’s ok. Really it is. That emptiness; it’s always been there, it always will. Those nightmares; sometimes the monster is after me, sometimes I’m the monster – either way, they’re all I know. And that rage; without it, I would have let go, so very long ago.

Don’t ask me, don’t make me lie. But know, even if I lie, I’m telling the truth. I’m not ok, but that’s the only ok I’ve ever known. So believe me when I say, I’m ok.