(no subject)
my mind craves a pen and paper.
a constructed sentence that lays out my thoughts.
each one bouncing around in my head,never slowing long enough for me to jot them down. my recent obsession with death, sex, God, body image and advertising scrolls my mind and I want to write about each one until my hand hurts, I cannot hold a pen and my mind is at ease.
instead, I make a list and go to class.
my soul aches to explain itself, to rationalize every issue. to be vunerable.
to write.
but the burdens of everyday monotonity bear down on myself and for a minute I feel as though the weight of the world is impendent upon my shoulders.
for a moment I feel the burdens of Atlas and I want to cry, so I watch a sad movie listen to songs littered with memories, and no tears come.
i am numb.
so I look to a bottle of wine, or a trip to the woods to ease my discomfort, to remove the weight from my shoulders the darkness from my soul.
and for a couple of hours, things are okay.
I am weightless.
and as my eyes fluttered closed still seeing double I remember I will wake up tomorrow with a burden still there, and more added to it attempting to remember the weightlessness.
the concern the fear the hopelessness the realization of mortality of perfection of love of wanting what you cant have and having what you dont want. I realize that there's something wrong.
this weight disconnects myself from the social aspect of life, reconnects with myself.
I am in touch with myself, however I cannot connect with anyone else and I dont want to connect with myself.
I want to be alone, but I dont even want to be with me.
i go home to connect with my roots to be with the ones who love you regardless-and the snide comments come soaring out of their mouths, the why arent you, the why are you, the arguements the fights the walk aways
and I want to return to the place I wanted to escape.
I want the control the escape the weightlessness the vunerability the love and sometimes, I want it all.
a constructed sentence that lays out my thoughts.
each one bouncing around in my head,never slowing long enough for me to jot them down. my recent obsession with death, sex, God, body image and advertising scrolls my mind and I want to write about each one until my hand hurts, I cannot hold a pen and my mind is at ease.
instead, I make a list and go to class.
my soul aches to explain itself, to rationalize every issue. to be vunerable.
to write.
but the burdens of everyday monotonity bear down on myself and for a minute I feel as though the weight of the world is impendent upon my shoulders.
for a moment I feel the burdens of Atlas and I want to cry, so I watch a sad movie listen to songs littered with memories, and no tears come.
i am numb.
so I look to a bottle of wine, or a trip to the woods to ease my discomfort, to remove the weight from my shoulders the darkness from my soul.
and for a couple of hours, things are okay.
I am weightless.
and as my eyes fluttered closed still seeing double I remember I will wake up tomorrow with a burden still there, and more added to it attempting to remember the weightlessness.
the concern the fear the hopelessness the realization of mortality of perfection of love of wanting what you cant have and having what you dont want. I realize that there's something wrong.
this weight disconnects myself from the social aspect of life, reconnects with myself.
I am in touch with myself, however I cannot connect with anyone else and I dont want to connect with myself.
I want to be alone, but I dont even want to be with me.
i go home to connect with my roots to be with the ones who love you regardless-and the snide comments come soaring out of their mouths, the why arent you, the why are you, the arguements the fights the walk aways
and I want to return to the place I wanted to escape.
I want the control the escape the weightlessness the vunerability the love and sometimes, I want it all.