I just spent three hours crying over nothing.
I'm tired.
It's everything and it's nothing.
I have a headache, my back hurts, I have cramps.
Thinking about life and the never ending thoughts that float in my brain.
I don't know if we mean anything.
I don't know if we ever will.
What are we?
What's the purpose.
Sitting in a counselors room listening to her talk to my friend.
"Well I mean, you live with her (me)" as in there's no way she could be okay.
You have disordered thoughts.
I ask my friend if she ever feels guilty for being born, she says no but she pauses.
I could trade a hundred lifetimes if it meant she or anyone else I love could never feel that way.
No pausing.
It's like the orange poem.
You're laughing and I love you.
I hope in another universe, everyone is happy.
Unrealistic to say but I still hope.
Sola.
It means alone.
And that's how I feel.
How I've felt all my life.
I sit here typing away, by myself.
I want more in this life.
I want to explore and eat good food and learn languages and fall in love without it hurting.
There should be so much more to it.
The sunrise and sunset is so beautiful.
They'd miss you.
Anybody in your life would miss you, if you left.
Stay.
Stay for yourself, stay for them, stay for the leaves on the ground, the smell of fresh coffee.
There's so much to do and so little time.
Do so much, do it all.
Anything and everything.
Learn to paint, play an instrument.
Fall in love.
Fall in love with yourself.
Who are you?
who are you.
It's okay if it takes you a while to figure it out.
Once you do, never stray from you.
Stand your ground.
Defend yourself.
Nothing is ever as serious as it seems and there is always better things on the horizon.
You just have to make it to the next day, and then the next day.
The next day.
Everything is something to be grateful for.
I know it sounds cliche.
I mean it.
Little moments mean the most.
Take a deep breath when you're outside in the cold air.
