“I am empty, but oddly enough, this emptiness feels heavy…it feels so damn heavy.”

I can’t cry anymore. I used to cry driving home every day. I used to cry in the shower, and when I laid down for bed. I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb my mind, so I wouldn’t have a free thought left to drift towards my unpleasant past, or at least the unpleasant … Continue reading “I am empty, but oddly enough, this emptiness feels heavy…it feels so damn heavy.”

“I don’t want to start over…only to end up a broken mess. I can’t imagine what happiness looks like, I can only imagine an ending where I’ve failed again..”

So, what now? I’m at a tipping point, and I don’t want to spend another year, another summer, another second, wasting away. I want to be done dreaming. I want to see my world for what it is, and not what my pride twists it into. I know I’m not worth anything, yet my greedy … Continue reading “I don’t want to start over…only to end up a broken mess. I can’t imagine what happiness looks like, I can only imagine an ending where I’ve failed again..”

August has arrived, and with it a more relaxed mood for my self reflections.

I was so caught up in the rush, I didn’t bother to think about it at all. I wanted to ride this wave, to live in the fast lane, to never lose the wind blowing through my hair. I wanted it all so badly...that I never noticed. Well, more like I refused to acknowledge the … Continue reading August has arrived, and with it a more relaxed mood for my self reflections.

Every day is a cloudy day when you can’t even be bothered to open your blinds.

I love the smell of water in the air. It’s so fresh, and it makes the air feel soft as I take a deep breath. That scent adds some sort of fluffy tail to the lasts wisps as they trickle in, tickling the back of my throat, making my lips curl towards the sky. It’s … Continue reading Every day is a cloudy day when you can’t even be bothered to open your blinds.

From chaos and all its corollary elements, how is it that every breath in the expanse of existence has lead this Universe towards the creation of the exact me?

I woke up today thinking it was Wednesday. This was odd, as yesterday was Monday, and I didn’t recall doing any time traveling. Where did my Tuesday go? I checked my phone and it confirmed my internal clock must be broken, because of course it was Tuesday. It was Tuesday, April 24th, 2018, the day … Continue reading From chaos and all its corollary elements, how is it that every breath in the expanse of existence has lead this Universe towards the creation of the exact me?

3AM is not the best time to write, but I’m out of pills and things to distract me. I’m letting the sound of my keyboard keep me company while I wait for everything to finally end.

I hate myself. I hate everything about me. I hate my stupid hair and how I play with it so much, as if I could ever get it to look good, when I’m such an ugly monster. I hate my stupid laugh, because it’s loud and comes at the worst of times because I have … Continue reading 3AM is not the best time to write, but I’m out of pills and things to distract me. I’m letting the sound of my keyboard keep me company while I wait for everything to finally end.

It’s easy to see it in hindsight, but in the moment everything feels so rushed; it’s impossible to tell up from down, or wrong from right..or living from dying..

But I love him...That was always my excuse at the end of every day that summer. Those nights spent awake wishing to be anything but real, the face of a harsh reality was revealed, and every special moment broken. You felt special because he was yours? People are not possessions. When you do that, you … Continue reading It’s easy to see it in hindsight, but in the moment everything feels so rushed; it’s impossible to tell up from down, or wrong from right..or living from dying..

My body is ash, saturated gray, invisible on cloudy days, and blown apart with a single puff of wind.

Now, right now, I cannot focus my eyes. They water in the bright light, damaged by any image aside from the pitch black. My feet are cold under my white and gray socks. I am shaking. I feel sick. I want to run, far away, but find myself captured in a million different social situations. Talking; I … Continue reading My body is ash, saturated gray, invisible on cloudy days, and blown apart with a single puff of wind.