Posted in Daily Life

Day Eleven: okay

It’s been somewhat better, but lately I have been having feelings of something tragic.
Something terrible is going to happen.
Something bad is going to happen.
Something.
Something is going to happen.
I don’t know.
It’s like going for a long, long walk and having an uneasy feeling that it’s going to rain.
Not light rain. A rainstorm.
And there is no soul in sight.
It’s just you.
You’re alone and uneasy.
You don’t have an umbrella.
You thought about bringing it. But something made you leave it at home and now you can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m not really sure what I want.
I think that’s a really big problem.
I have no confidence.
Everyday I learn new things that I relate to myself.
Little by little things make more sense and I accept more things.

I have been reading a lot less this year.
Makes me uneasy thinking about it because it’s one thing that I can rely on to make me feel at ease.
But I think that I am too preoccupied to read.
Like, I always got something to do even when I don’t.

Many times I think about relationships.
The relationships I am in.
The relationships I could be in.
Things that could happen.
Things that shouldn’t happen.
Things that could change.
I’m not really sure.
I want distance, to be left alone. But I also want the love and comfort of others.
I want the easy way.
I don’t want to try.
I like the chase.
I want people to come to me.
I am a fish.
I flop around.
I don’t know.
I feel heavy.
I need to forget about these things.
Make changes.
Take leaps.
Be with people of my own kind.
But I continue to make an effort to point out the aspects of people of why we won’t be good together.
And I also note the aspects of people that would be beneficial to me, to the relationship we could have. Aspects that can serve as a bonding aspect.
I don’t know.
I’m somewhat psychotic.
I may need help.
But I am convinced I can figure this out.
Well, at least I’m trying.

Sometimes I look at myself and I don’t know.
Everyday I look different.
Somedays I feel good, somedays I feel terrible.
And it determines how I look at the day.
How I look at myself.
I try not to let it get to me too much.
It’s been better,

I have no idea where I was going with this post.
Does blogging count as a form of an outlet even though no one is listening?
Or is it just a capsule that I can keep hidden forever.

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