The days blend together after a number of them prove uneventful, that's why I've decided to write them down. The most interesting thing to me is the way my mind develops. My experiences mature me and my thought process, the way I handle things change and the places where I end up always make sense in the end. I've added some interesting characters to my life in school recently. These people are a lot better than the previous, and I'm always left that way. Everything falls into place only at the very end, and although it doesn't make up for the shitty experiences I've had to get there, at least I finally did. I haven't gotten there yet though, but I can see these people bringing me there. They are genuine, kind, and have welcomed me with open arms. I only know very few other people like this and I keep them close to my heart.
I can't put my finger on why things are so dull. Nothing grabs my attention, nothing makes my heart race, nothing makes my mind engulf itself in thoughts that are relevant..
I wish I could tell you that I wake up every morning with a purpose, but I hardly can get out of bed. I wake up exhausted in the mornings, a kind of tired so intense that it hurts. I've had to take pills for quite some time now, since I seriously wouldn't be able to wake up, no matter how many hours of sleep I had the night prior. However, the pills are actually for my adhd.
Whatever I'm feeling is so insignificant that it's more of a process, I have to think about it. My answer is always the same though, I don't know. I'm neither happy nor sad. Particular memories evoke certain emotions, but nothing can currently changes my mood. Nothing makes me happy anymore, everything I enjoy has become just another activity. There is nothing to look forward to, I don't get happy anymore. I acknowledge that something is happy and try to feel it. Instead of butterflies in my stomach there is a tapeworm. I don't feel alive anymore.
There is one thing, though. One thing that will always provide me with a feeling my body overwhelms itself with. It's one of the perks of being alive, that feeling. However, the circumstances surrounding that feeling are tragic, making it limited, and so addicting. Between each rendezvous was a tormenting ache for something to embezzle my soul with stars and fill my veins with lightening the way his touch did. Being with him was different. It was as if caterpillars grew inside my chest and broke out of their cacoons to piece together my broken heart. I remember feeling safe. his hands were the bed and his chest was the pillow, his lips were the only comfort I craved and his heart was something I wanted to possess. Every time he wrapped his arms around me it felt like nothing could go wrong, like there was a universe in my body instead of just an off beat heart. It felt like he was under my skin and for that moment I wasn't trying to stop the chills from rising. It's just that he kissed me so deep I forgot whose air I was breathing. I touched him, my naked heart was so close to his. I hugged him so tight and he whispered in my ears in that voice of his that just gave me the chills thinking about right now. How does someone get this kind of power? I certainly don't remember handing it over to him. Was this a gradual advance in authority or was this an abrupt, mindless surrender of my sanity? I don't know, and I don't think I'll ever find out. I have to kill all these beautiful feelings. The only feeling that I can fxcking feel had to be murdered. There's no way around it. And I think it's what may be draining the happiness from everything else.
