
i feel distant, dissociated, and misunderstood. sometimes i read the same thing a dozen times before i realize what i read. I do the same things over and over, and i feel like most of my life is a daydream. I used to be more awake than this. I used to think. Everyday used to be an adventure.
this pattern is making me sick.
i know that i have little worlds in my head, populated by peoples ive forgotten. i know i think in colors and my heartbeat is a drum, but it is a lost thing. i worry, i stress, and i get drawn into this artificial world everyone lives in, and i hate it. i feel like im too bright to get fooled into being so dark; but i still have.
i love, but the love is hard. i love people far away, and people who are near, and people ill never see again. And its hard. I dont know if i still love myself, and i dont know where i lost that. The skeptic asks if i ever had that.
I always question my memories; the mind takes liberties with your memories, and how you see a thing now can effect how you remember seeing it then when you recall it. I guess its compensating for the changes in yourself, but i dont know.
Its probably best if you just ignore all of that;
its probably just holiday stress working its way out of my system.
im babbling around with pockets full of questions, and masturbating to metaphor, so i think that this post has outlasted its productivity.
