read at your own risk, i guess.. it doesn’t make any sense to me.
you know what’s funny about who i am? or who i see that i am? i tell everyone to live their lives but i can’t live my own. i want greatness and light for everyone, but i can’t wish it upon myself. mostly because i can’t see it for myself.
pretty soon i’ll have to step away from the computer, from the pretty pictures and tv shows, from the place inside my head i dream so well. i’ll have to live for myself and go through it as a person in the world. someone who “matters.” as someone with connections. mentally, spiritually, vibrationally, emotionally. i’ll have to pretend i think anyone can care about me without sabotaging it. i have too many questions. i get..lonely, sad around groups of people. why? why does the thought of life make me so confused? why do i have to grow up?
the people i call friends, my very best friend in the world lives a state away. or actually, she just moved across the country, but she is more of a friend to me than people i’ve breathed the same air as and though yes, i’d love to know what it’s like to hug her, i’ve gotten more out of her friendship than people i’ve sat next to, in bed with.
i think i’ll always be idealistic. maybe reality is too scary for me. but i’m tired of fear, fear of doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong words and feeling the wrong emotions for people. not feeling enough or sharing enough. the truth is i don’t know how.
i’ll always be in love with ideas, echoes and ghosts of people, what ifs, what was..
but what is? that is the most uncertain thing to me. what is concrete and right in front of me is more of a mystery than what i cannot grab.
i feel everything inside of me as it is, maybe magnified. i am so sensitive not just to sadness, offense, anger and things- but happiness, laughter. it just comes so full force at me and i don’t just take it as a solid thing. positivity, it is made up of all the billions, trillions plus of stars in the universe and even then those stars are made of of many more particles. so many that we can’t understand it.
i think sometimes we get happiness mixed up like that, like chop it up into little tiny pieces and then we lose it and it scatters around us. what is so hard with taking happiness as it is? why are we so good at keeping ourselves miserable?
i try to take that and myself, but..every time i see a picture of myself smiling or i look at my reflection in the mirror i can’t accept it. i don’t know or like the person i see. and that is terrifying for me. the only demon that haunts me is myself. and as much as i try i can’t run away from who or what i am. but what, or who is that, even? i don’t know. so if i see myself in anything i run from it. but sometimes i don’t know what i’m running from, so like..everything scares me. i may feel everything to an extreme level but i also block it out intensely.
i’m driving myself crazy.
sometimes food is the only thing there. the only solid thing. whether it causes me pain, anger, fear, happiness, excitement..it’s there. this “relationship” is something i know will always be there. when i don’t have anyone around i can use it to give me feelings others can’t, or avoid it to avoid life and myself, use it to fade me away, to hurt me, but it is someway in my control, even when i’m controlled by it. sometimes i can only use food to live because something is stopping me from going out and being. but i am so safe in this bubble.
even now i have no idea what this is.
if i believed in past lives i must have been very strong emotioned people.
