Compulsive Happiness

I'm a little confused
trying to eat more blueberries than my mouth can hold
stuck somewhere between happy and pushing past perfect
i alwyas assumed empty time was for improving yourself
it never crossed my mind to just be who i am
my personality is just another familiar faced trend i'm sick of
i'm desperetly grasping exhaustion so i can pull it off
i want to paint my soul over, just like i tear those posters off my walls
So frequently i'll alwyas be surprised at reality
i always get to create and shape my characters
i just assumed i was allowed to do the same with myself
so what if fiction scenes and day dreams merge
isn't it all just to get to the next day, the next stage, tomorrow
does it matter if i'm lying to you or to myself
if this makeup has become my face
and a search for beautiful life has consumed me
is that not okay? am i sick or ugly
like all the others faking survival
have i lost the truth in whats not real
or is changing myself just part of life's plan
i'm a little confused