(no subject)
I have this feeling of uncertainty and this dread of grasping what it is that consumes me day by day.
Someone once told me that I'm just not capable of loving.
I told them I loved them.
Someone once told me I was capable of loving.
I told them I could love no more than a friend loves another.
Transposing through words and metaphors of philosophical proportions tend to leave me nowhere and my own mind is shrouded. I don't know if I love anyone. I don't know if it's capable. I don't know the truth from my own lies. I don't exist. I'm not here.
This isn't happening.
Last time I was here I was asking for help and two lovely volunteers raised their hands.
So much for change.
(no this is not saying anything about those two people, just that I guess I have no motivation for…well… anything it seems…)
Someone once told me that I'm just not capable of loving.
I told them I loved them.
Someone once told me I was capable of loving.
I told them I could love no more than a friend loves another.
Transposing through words and metaphors of philosophical proportions tend to leave me nowhere and my own mind is shrouded. I don't know if I love anyone. I don't know if it's capable. I don't know the truth from my own lies. I don't exist. I'm not here.
This isn't happening.
Last time I was here I was asking for help and two lovely volunteers raised their hands.
So much for change.
(no this is not saying anything about those two people, just that I guess I have no motivation for…well… anything it seems…)