Frown Lines

I worry, will this turn out like the rest?
The clutter of my room is swallowing me. I feel claustrophobic with it, even though I like to convince myself that i have no fears. What is there to be scared of in this world? Nothing.
Or everything?
Truth is, I'm scared of more than i let on. 'Haunted by memories' is cliched i know, but sometimes i feel like i can completely get a grasp on what that saying means. Some things just can't be forgotten. Creeping, slithering, trickling through thoughts of every day. Its possible for your stream of conciousness to be poisoned, i found out.
Today has been one of those days where lines blur. Lines between optimism and pessimism. Lines between fake and real.
It hit me today how fine those lines really are, and how easily they can be shattered, allowing the opposites to splash together in a unique mix of colour with black and white.
Will you be the same?
Or am i just avoiding putting the blame on myself?