Empty. I feel empty. Like everything that's inside me is useless. I'm just sitting there trying to figure out what to do. Should I get out of my bed and do something or should I stay there staring at my ceiling and thinking about death ?
Death. What a nice word to describe it. Death is the escape to all of our problems, but it's not the solution. Not always. Maybe not even at all. I often do think about death and I often do want to die. I don't want to suffer anymore. Suffer from all of this bullshit called life.
Life. What is even life. Everyone has his own description of life. I personally don't. I didn't find it. I don't think that I'm living right now. Everything around me is just happening and I'm here sitting or standing "living". I'm just staring at everyone, sometimes when I feel like to I talk or move, but most of the time I don't want to. I just wanna go back sleeping.
Sleep. I can't sleep. Every night I'm fighting against myself and trying to fall asleep. But I can't. No matter how hard I try. I just can't. And if I do fall asleep I'll just wake up sweating from a fucking nightmare.
Nightmares. I hate them. I have at least 5 nightmares per months. It's most of the time the same one. My ex girlfriend telling me that she's breaking up and horribly fucking die in the next few seconds. Every time I woke up and I just wanna hug her knowing that she's alive. But I can't. I'm forced to think about her every week because of this. I love her.
Love. I can't describe it anymore. It scares me. It's keeping me away from living. Even though I can't live right now. Every night I just keep spending hours thinking about how much I love her. But I can't tell her. She's over it. Love is like a fucking prison. You can't just escape and go back to whatever you were doing before. You're trapped inside of a fucking feeling that is just killing you slowly. And once it goes away, you just feel empty.
Empty.
