I'm not a girl
Nor am I typical.
I'm me and I always will be. Now if I only know who the fuck that was. I live in a delusion. Well multiple delusions to be exact. Floating in and out of one after the other. My brain slowly starts to shut down part way through the day however and I am left with just the one thing that is not a delusion, myself.
That is the most horendous part of any evening. When I relize that not only has the rest of the day been a blurring battle between the various aspects of my personality but now I'm alone. There isn't anyone else there to tell me what is what and who is who. That is my job and obviously I can't do that very well.
I pick up the phone around six pm and just dial numbers. One guy first who isn't home, then an old one who hates me but can't admit it to himself. Then the first guy is called again on his alternate number. We talk, I feel better about the day but the conversation ends with me still being confused.
I progress and start to get worse. Well worse isn't the word persay, I would much rather describe it as odd. I get odd.
Now nothing is typically wrong with odd. A little odd in ones day makes the world go round. Mine particularly. ithout od I normally can't function. Hence the previous mention of my /odd/ delusional life. However the evenings odd isn't the same sort of odd. It's profoundly different. I feel it in the pit of my stomach.
Loneliness. A distint lack of togetherness. That fuels my evening oddness. I don't feel complete without something. But what? That I definetly can't answer anytime soon it seems.
But I strive to and I fail miserably. Guy who hates me left a void behind, or rather I took a void with me when I left him. If that is ow it works ever. I don't feel complete as myself. Not like he could ever fill that void again but I can't figure out what can. I know it is on the tip of my tongue ever time I think about it however.
Leap. Yeah right. That only works in storybooks. I do what to say what is actually on my mind to the guy I actually talked to but he doesn't make it easier for me to do such. His compliments, his voice, his manner. Though through a bundle of different wires and only a, despite the short span of time vivid, memory of 2 days I can still feel it. A pull. I hate shit like that. I'm much more inclined to not think about things and not have them rattle through my brain.
Obsessed most would say. I like the words infatuated. But what do you do other then make other people think you are a crazed stalker who needs mental help.
Maybe you seek mental help, or hell maybe not.
~Tina~
Excuse all spelling errors I'm not in the mind frame to use spell check so fuck you, and you, and you, you're cool.
I'm me and I always will be. Now if I only know who the fuck that was. I live in a delusion. Well multiple delusions to be exact. Floating in and out of one after the other. My brain slowly starts to shut down part way through the day however and I am left with just the one thing that is not a delusion, myself.
That is the most horendous part of any evening. When I relize that not only has the rest of the day been a blurring battle between the various aspects of my personality but now I'm alone. There isn't anyone else there to tell me what is what and who is who. That is my job and obviously I can't do that very well.
I pick up the phone around six pm and just dial numbers. One guy first who isn't home, then an old one who hates me but can't admit it to himself. Then the first guy is called again on his alternate number. We talk, I feel better about the day but the conversation ends with me still being confused.
I progress and start to get worse. Well worse isn't the word persay, I would much rather describe it as odd. I get odd.
Now nothing is typically wrong with odd. A little odd in ones day makes the world go round. Mine particularly. ithout od I normally can't function. Hence the previous mention of my /odd/ delusional life. However the evenings odd isn't the same sort of odd. It's profoundly different. I feel it in the pit of my stomach.
Loneliness. A distint lack of togetherness. That fuels my evening oddness. I don't feel complete without something. But what? That I definetly can't answer anytime soon it seems.
But I strive to and I fail miserably. Guy who hates me left a void behind, or rather I took a void with me when I left him. If that is ow it works ever. I don't feel complete as myself. Not like he could ever fill that void again but I can't figure out what can. I know it is on the tip of my tongue ever time I think about it however.
Leap. Yeah right. That only works in storybooks. I do what to say what is actually on my mind to the guy I actually talked to but he doesn't make it easier for me to do such. His compliments, his voice, his manner. Though through a bundle of different wires and only a, despite the short span of time vivid, memory of 2 days I can still feel it. A pull. I hate shit like that. I'm much more inclined to not think about things and not have them rattle through my brain.
Obsessed most would say. I like the words infatuated. But what do you do other then make other people think you are a crazed stalker who needs mental help.
Maybe you seek mental help, or hell maybe not.
~Tina~
Excuse all spelling errors I'm not in the mind frame to use spell check so fuck you, and you, and you, you're cool.