It felt like it was ready for me to just open and write, I just haven't done it in so long. It's interesting what happens when you put your words onto paper, it's like I'm finally being heard. That's the thing, there was no space for me back then and there usually isn't, even now, it ends up being about you, her or just someone else entirely. I don't listen to myself because I wasn't listened to.
I'm back at feeling like a burden, it's a horrible feeling, nothing makes me feel more unworthy than that, and to think I grew up like that.
Is everything a projection? Then how can I make it better...?
My brain is weirdly fried, only it makes sense given how much I drank last night. Funny that after drinking I am writing again. How do I overcome this crap?
I want to feel worthy, but my romantic relationships have me hopeless. It's either satisfaction and horror, or utter dissatisfaction and heaven... I deserve better, a true better. I deserve not to feel like a burden, I deserve all my wishes, I deserve orgasms, openness, TRUTH. Not some blurry protective glass that doesn't fully let me see in. What's the point of having that?
I'm wondering if it's the beginning of the end again. I'm so incredibly exhausted, so so much I'm thinking of going to bed now, at 19:31. Maybe then I'll actually be able to sleep, only my brain is super active because of all the anxiety provided into my life from you and from me and from every-thing. So there is no stopping it, lights blinking inside it, thoughts intruding my peace and ultimately, feelings taking over all of me.
I wish I was more like her, I wished that my entire life. How could I ever enjoy it when I also envy it? She's so beautiful, effortlessly, and when she puts extra effort, she's despampanante; Why does it hurt? What do I do to be more like her? I'll never fix my nose, I'm trying to care for my diet so I don't have this disgusting skin, but I have wrinkles already and even though I keep going to the gym, my body looks the same. I wish my legs were firmer and my butt rounder. I miss hearing those words of affirmation you used to tell me. I miss you, but I can't and I shouldn't, for it was horror.
How can I end my brain? Is death the only answer to such a hard world we live in? I have way more questions than answers, though I feel like they're right here, within, too... Or in some book nearby, somewhere in my phone or the internet, qué se yo?
I have friends and it's incredible, I feel safe and comfortable with them. But my fear of everything is so difficult to deal with, sometimes I wonder if who they're seeing is indeed truly me... Is it? Will I ever know?
I finally have some money, that is quite relieving. Declutter my home, finish my home, be my own home. I don't know what to fix first, when there are so many holes in this body, the blood rushes out as I am covering them, they re-open and become ports for pain.
My fantasy novel... A guide to be a parent and fellow human. It's hard to exist and I don't know how to change it. It all hurts.
Remember when we used to be happy? Only I wasn't really... Where you? Ha, you actually had absolutely no clue of my inner world, hold on. Do you actually care about it? Or will you forget to be interested?
- Who are you, really?
I want engagement and full commitment in my life. I want to see your full desire desire desire. I want to see your full pain, insanity, joy... sex. Please give me the freedom to rejoice in sex once more. What a shame to be so caught up, self-esteem? Sure, from sex.
Often I think of your friend, she'd be perfect-er for you; but you chose me. You were not together because timing wasn't right -dreamy eyes, she loves you, not only like that. You love her too, but I cannot read your eyes for they have deceived me more that twice.
Why did you lie? Why did you change my plans? Why are you still here? Why do we fight?
I'm exhausted, in an attempt to apeace this mind, writing as my eyes close on their own and I wish the lights to be off and done. I'm ready for sleep, but wishing to never wake up.
It's a hard life this one, I'm exhausted.
What's going on with me, what the fuck is going on with you? Will I ever truly be happy, or will there always be something wrong. Something wrong.
I'm too tired but so much have I within, I need help but she won't call me back. I want a hug, but somehow none is as relieving and loving as his, but he's gone and his silence is upsetting. Why did you come back for a day? I wish I didn't miss you.
I'm exhausted and I don't know what to do with you. Can we even solve this?
TOO MANY EMOTIONS AND NOT ENOUGH BRAIN TO STAY FOCUS AND PUT IT OUT. Too many thoughts, too many emotions, too many sensations, too many too much too much. TOO.
I am exhausted but I wish I could just write more.
I don't want to open my eyes tomorrow, that's why I don't sleep, I hate waking up and remembering, it's another shit day of the same crap:
Wars, dissatisfaction, longing, overwhelm. I need a break from the cycle of pain I'm in. I need a break from us, I need you to appreciate me more again. Why am I so needy?
I just don't want to wake up again.