no subject
I think I should stop writing in here. No one reads it except me, and I don't seem to feel any better from writing down my thoughts.
At the same time, sometimes I feel like this journal is one of only 2 friends that I can always count on to listen. It just patiently waits for me to assign it a story, so calm and peaceful.
If I moved away and started my life over again... would I feel any different? Would I be haunted by my past? Unable to move on, unable to speak, unable to function and be accepted?
Most likely. Probably not a good idea. But here I sit with a pit in my chest for no real reason. Eyes and mind questioning purpose again, fooled by some pretty images and realities on the tv. I remind myself that these things can't be real, but I can never know for sure.
I find it strange that I both want the day to end, and want it to last forever. I can't really decide whether I am content with what i've done, or need to revisit it. I feel so lost again.
At the same time, sometimes I feel like this journal is one of only 2 friends that I can always count on to listen. It just patiently waits for me to assign it a story, so calm and peaceful.
If I moved away and started my life over again... would I feel any different? Would I be haunted by my past? Unable to move on, unable to speak, unable to function and be accepted?
Most likely. Probably not a good idea. But here I sit with a pit in my chest for no real reason. Eyes and mind questioning purpose again, fooled by some pretty images and realities on the tv. I remind myself that these things can't be real, but I can never know for sure.
I find it strange that I both want the day to end, and want it to last forever. I can't really decide whether I am content with what i've done, or need to revisit it. I feel so lost again.