I especially hate them when lj refuses to post them (written last night around midnight)
I hate these nights when I feel like I have such weight, such crushing weight, just sitting right above my lungs waiting to be lifted. I always feel the need to write about it, or speak to someone.
But these nights, words fail me.
I don't know where to begin or where to end. I don't know how I feel or about what. And the anxiety starts to build up as I feel so awake, yet so tired. Needing to sleep, but feeling unable to. The necessity to relieve myself of such a burden fights with the rest of my mind. My mind doesn't want it to overwhelm me, but it already has begun to. My eyes, which normally feel most exhausted are open very widely. I feel the urge to express myself, but can only do so in a fashion like a frustrated author complaining in pen about writer's block.
I try to contemplate great issues of controversy-- abortion, illegal immigration, legalize marijuana-- but such matters have little importance at the moment. So I try a different approach, I try to think of something minuscule. What I ate for dinner, the words I said much earlier today at grad night, the fake money I lost gambling, how Michael teased me as he told me that girls don't gamble. These things make me smile and I realize slowly that there are other things I'm purposely blocking from my mind. Those are the little things which bother me. I've known before that they have been floating among my thoughts, but I have not realized that I am more bothered as I intentionally try to mentally ignore them.
But what has been the reason why I am still typing, I am still at a loss of how I feel about it. I feel so many things which cancel themselves into a big void of nothingness. I feel numb. This feeling is neither good or bad. In the past, I've always felt that once you lose your ability to feel, you become inhuman, like a robot. This, I have decided, would mean that people in vegetated states aren't human, which to me, doesn't seem quite right. But there are always exceptions to the rules. Or are there? Are there always exceptions? Are there always rules?
And why in the world am I only slightly tired at this moment?
One last thought before I force myself to sleep:
I officially hate estrogen and all other hormones related to female functions.
But these nights, words fail me.
I don't know where to begin or where to end. I don't know how I feel or about what. And the anxiety starts to build up as I feel so awake, yet so tired. Needing to sleep, but feeling unable to. The necessity to relieve myself of such a burden fights with the rest of my mind. My mind doesn't want it to overwhelm me, but it already has begun to. My eyes, which normally feel most exhausted are open very widely. I feel the urge to express myself, but can only do so in a fashion like a frustrated author complaining in pen about writer's block.
I try to contemplate great issues of controversy-- abortion, illegal immigration, legalize marijuana-- but such matters have little importance at the moment. So I try a different approach, I try to think of something minuscule. What I ate for dinner, the words I said much earlier today at grad night, the fake money I lost gambling, how Michael teased me as he told me that girls don't gamble. These things make me smile and I realize slowly that there are other things I'm purposely blocking from my mind. Those are the little things which bother me. I've known before that they have been floating among my thoughts, but I have not realized that I am more bothered as I intentionally try to mentally ignore them.
But what has been the reason why I am still typing, I am still at a loss of how I feel about it. I feel so many things which cancel themselves into a big void of nothingness. I feel numb. This feeling is neither good or bad. In the past, I've always felt that once you lose your ability to feel, you become inhuman, like a robot. This, I have decided, would mean that people in vegetated states aren't human, which to me, doesn't seem quite right. But there are always exceptions to the rules. Or are there? Are there always exceptions? Are there always rules?
And why in the world am I only slightly tired at this moment?
One last thought before I force myself to sleep:
I officially hate estrogen and all other hormones related to female functions.