so much has happened. i feel emotionally exhausted.
learning my limits.
this isn't coming from my brain, i don't even know what i look like anymore.
i try and see myself, and i can't.
if love is noticing all the little things' significance, is depression love?
is life love?
i've got a lot of questions, but i can't expect any answers.
too much input- not enough output.
curiosity gets the best of me- i'll die by my own hand someday.
writing a book in the mountains doesn't sound so awful right now.
it is impossible for me to be alone
that fact leaves me in a mix of trapped and reassured.
i don't know who i am
and i can't handle a room of screaming kids right now.
and probably never, not this month at least.
i've got so much shit to do and if i let it slide over my head maybe i could make it out alive
but i can't let that happen
it means so much in some weird way
i want this year to be perfect. i want to learn my limits and weirdness and be able to control myself
out of control is not a good attitude for school
but i feel like i'm not the one making the decisions.
in some strange way
i just want a stretch of time where i'm happy.
where i deal with things
and learn from it
and move forward
and know the direction i'm heading
it's not fair to you, boy. it's not fair.
those fucking hormones are pulling me by a chain
and i'm far too scared of the dangers of life without it
it's how they reel you in
i'm almost sick of this place already
and i want to be in love with everything happpening to me
but i've got no memory
and that's the only thing holding me to it all
not to sound so hopeless, of course.
i need to simmer down
i need to take it one problem at a time
i need to stop cutting my teeth on it all
the cuticles, the follicles, the pills, the cigarettes.
one item at a time
i need more sleep, i need isolated help.
first therapy tonight, cross your fingers.
maybe talking about me will do some good.