Sunday, November 30, 2014

Feelings & Noise

I've pulled this up dozens of times. Started to write something. Stopped. Never come back. I feel like I want to say something. I want to say something, and I want it to be heard. But what I'm saying isn't what I'm feeling. Not really. It's noise translated, interpretations of myself I don't know I'm qualified to make.

I feel really fucking sad, and I've felt really fucking sad for a really long time. My body is clogged with old sadness and old pain from wounds I never cleaned. There are times when I spend hours trying to understand the shrapnel embedded inside me. There are times when I will sob so violently and have no idea why other than that I've hurt and lost and never let myself hurt and lose. I don't know what I need to say. I don't know what to express that will convey what I feel, what I feel and not just more noise. But at least I'm starting to feel it.

Friday, November 21, 2014

I don't know if I'm lonely or I want to be alone. Sometimes I ask myself if, like Pygmalion, I could craft an ideal partner to play and cry with me would I and if so would that be what I most want in all the world?

Probably not.

I have a strong desire to be heard, but I'm not entirely sure what to say. I want to feel connected to others, but I spend the majority of my time alone. I want to peek into the hearts of those around me and caress their shame in a familiar embrace, but what would I share of my own? What am I ashamed of? Existing?

Probably.

I have a vision of myself where I enjoy a quiet life of reading writing playing by myself in spare time when I'm not breathing in the existence pain of those around me. But what usually manifests in meatspace is me hiding myself whether or not there's anyone to hide from. Yes yes, the now is a vast improvement from the past, but I'm still alone on yetanotherFridaynight yet I don't know where else I'd rather be or do save skip ahead to the good parts.

I think I'm lonely. And I think being alone feels like the best alternative among a number of problematic choices. And now I don't know if that makes things better or makes them worse.