If God one day decides, 'Hmm, let me install in every human being an organ that would allow them to instantly pick up on people's emotions and feel it full force,' I think the world would be a much more happier, understanding, and supportive place.
Some people are nasty. I mean, really nasty.
I'm hurting.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Friday, April 04, 2008
Happiness is a battle, or so I used to say.
I wrote this back in September, 2005. Reading through it, I got a sudden rush of sadness that I can't explain. I can't believe how much mess I used to be in back then, and how broken, desperate, and weak I was. It certainly brings back a lot of memories.
I always get this feeling like something is wrong. I feel almost defective and that my parents should've taken me to the repairs a long time ago. I sense that my mother has given up on me because she's not sure how she raised this. She loves me, but she doesn't want to be the person I run to. There's so salvation without a catch and life is one long distraction from the inevitable. Isn't that right.
There is no cure for this. Happiness is a battle that won't stop. And I'll have to fight for it as long as I live. I can't maintain this anymore and I feel as though my body is going to give in anytime soon. My dreams are polluted. I'm exhausted while I sleep and when I'm awake too. I don't know how that's possible. I sleep 8 to 10 hours, but even with that, I wake up tired and exhausted. I feel like a zombie. I'm trapped in my own body.
I want out.
I feel like I'm paralyzed, but no one believes me. It's draining me. I'm scared in my dreams and I'm terrified in my waking life. My dream is also my reality. And almost feels like the ground is going to slide beneath my feet and I will have no one to turn to.
I'm scared of being an adult. I'm scared of being alone. I can't be alone in this big room with so many books, CD's, paint brushes, and old magazines... With the old clothes, socks, and dirty cups scattered on the floor that I can't even see the floor. Where do I run to? I can't. I'll only trip and fall. No one will ever love me, and I will die alone. I can't go anywhere as fast and I will be nothing. Nothing will ever work out. And no, it's not about university. It's me. It's life. It's this big bad world. It's all the craziness. It's everything that makes me want to cover my ears and scream until it's quiet again... How did life turn into a death-wish for me?
I want out of this mess. I want out.
I know there's something I need. Perhaps it's somewhere around me, but I can't feel it. I need the thing that lets your brain shuts off because your heart is turned on.
“I'm going out of my mind
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a corkscrew through my heart
Ever since we've been apart” - Bob Dylan - You're a Big Girl.
I always get this feeling like something is wrong. I feel almost defective and that my parents should've taken me to the repairs a long time ago. I sense that my mother has given up on me because she's not sure how she raised this. She loves me, but she doesn't want to be the person I run to. There's so salvation without a catch and life is one long distraction from the inevitable. Isn't that right.
There is no cure for this. Happiness is a battle that won't stop. And I'll have to fight for it as long as I live. I can't maintain this anymore and I feel as though my body is going to give in anytime soon. My dreams are polluted. I'm exhausted while I sleep and when I'm awake too. I don't know how that's possible. I sleep 8 to 10 hours, but even with that, I wake up tired and exhausted. I feel like a zombie. I'm trapped in my own body.
I want out.
I feel like I'm paralyzed, but no one believes me. It's draining me. I'm scared in my dreams and I'm terrified in my waking life. My dream is also my reality. And almost feels like the ground is going to slide beneath my feet and I will have no one to turn to.
I'm scared of being an adult. I'm scared of being alone. I can't be alone in this big room with so many books, CD's, paint brushes, and old magazines... With the old clothes, socks, and dirty cups scattered on the floor that I can't even see the floor. Where do I run to? I can't. I'll only trip and fall. No one will ever love me, and I will die alone. I can't go anywhere as fast and I will be nothing. Nothing will ever work out. And no, it's not about university. It's me. It's life. It's this big bad world. It's all the craziness. It's everything that makes me want to cover my ears and scream until it's quiet again... How did life turn into a death-wish for me?
I want out of this mess. I want out.
I know there's something I need. Perhaps it's somewhere around me, but I can't feel it. I need the thing that lets your brain shuts off because your heart is turned on.
“I'm going out of my mind
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a corkscrew through my heart
Ever since we've been apart” - Bob Dylan - You're a Big Girl.
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