I can't sleep because I'm anxious. My nerves are jacked. Every second I feel like I'm going nowhere and I should be moving in any other direction. Every resolution dissolves at the speed of mundane, everyday life. I get no pleasure from the things I used to enjoy. I go to bed each night and my lungs hurt from the cigarettes I smoke. I wake up in the morning and I'm always in such a rush.
The rushing part I don't understand.
I go back through my memories and imagine making different choices. I have multitudes of timelines playing out in my head. "Look, here I am in this life," I say, as I see myself under a different set of circumstances, "and again, here I am now."
I keep waiting for something beautiful to happen. I make promises to myself and never keep them.
I avoid cameras and mirrors.
I am uncomfortable with being touched.
I don't remember the last time I've had a really close friend. Many of the people I've thought were my friends were not as close to me as I felt I was to them. None of them ever invited me over.
I never feel like I'm listening to the right music. I think a song is good until I hear it, and then I feel like I should be listening to something else.
There is an imaginary audience that judges everything I do. When they do have faces in my mind, their faces are stern.
Post a comment in response:
|© 2002-2008. Blurty Journal. All rights reserved.|