Is this morbid?
So I’m on the car with my parents and we drive passed a funeral home. I start to silently recall a wake I had been at in that particular funeral home and how it was similar to the number of other wakes I’ve been to. Then I remembered a wake I went to a few months ago and how I thought it was strange that we shared our sympathies with the deceased’s survivors before we prayed at the casket. Then I got to thinking of who I’d want and not want standing next to my casket at my own funeral, and I thought “definitely my parents, and my -” which stopped my train of thought. The fact that I immediately went to my parents isn’t what surprised me. It was the fact that I assumed I would pass before my parents would. I don’t actually think of these sorts of things but it just shows how incredibly unfortunate the world is right now. Teens and young adults are dying in my hometown and the surrounding towns, and they have been for years. It’s so sad that this is what I’ve come to know as “normal.” It’s unfortunate when anybody leaves this world, but when people lose their lives at such a young age.. it’s surreal. It feels wrong. And it’s sad.
I don’t mean to bring anybody down; that certainly wasn’t where I intended on going with this night. But some thoughts can’t be avoided. Be well, world
I wonder sometimes why it’s worth it. making friends. I guess it just happens somehow but why? why do we spend time making friends, talking about meaningless things with people we don’t know and asking questions to listen to answers we don’t care about? I just don’t understand. why do we waste our time when some people are going to leave us. some people are going to break us. some people are going to hurt us. I’m not saying that there aren’t good things that come from friendships; I have friends. but I don’t know how I got them. isn’t that the weirdest part? I spent so much time with the people I met in elementary school and I don’t talk to any of them anymore.I had best friends in middle school and high school who walked the same steps as I did for years and we don’t even know who the other is at this point. people are constantly moving and changing and learning and nothing ever stays the same. why do we spend so much time loving friends when they may not be there tomorrow? I don’t get it. I mean, yeah, ok, I have friends in my life who I love and that I wish I could keep in my life forever, but what’s the reality of that? what makes me think that it’s gonna be any different that the other friends I’ve had? it’s depressing. of all the friends I’ve had in my life, of all the people I’ve come across that I chose to place higher than others, how many of them are still in my life? how many of them do I still talk to? how many of them still care about me? and does this matter? not even a little. I would absolutely hate not having friends. but why are the friends that meant so much to me a few years ago not matter anymore? and does that mean that the people I love so much now, the people I spend every day with, won’t matter in a few years? if they won’t, and everything will just follow this absurd pattern then what is the point of investing so much in these “friendships?” I don’t want them to end. I don’t want to lose the friends I care so much about. but if it happened before it’ll happen again and then what? it’ll just keep happening. and will it matter then? not even a little.
This is a letter to nobody
I have a feeling something is wrong. I don’t know what it is, I don’t know when it happened, but I know I feel it. So many thoughts are swimming around in my head. No, not even swimming, they’re just treading water because they can’t move; it’s so crowded in there. I feel like I’m ready to explode but it’s not happening. I want to do something crazy, something totally not like me so that maybe this feeling will go away. I want to break out of my own body and just be reckless. I want to know what it feels like to not be me. I’ve been trapped in this mess for such a long time, it hurts. It hurts and I can’t help it. I can’t help myself and nothing else can. The timing couldn’t be worse, either. I feel like the universe knows. Every time something happens; let the snowball effect ensue. And then I’m buried underneath it all without even a breath left to scream for help. What does this mean? Why is this happening? How can I get through this when I don’t see a way out? I need a way out.
I don’t want to be this person. the person that cries at everything. I mean I’ve gotten used to it. That is to say, I’ve gotten pretty good at it. It happens more often than not. Like all the time. Like, really. I don’t like it. I don’t like this person. This person that I don’t even know. Like, that’s not my reflection, that’s not my life. I don’t know who it is and I don’t like them. They should just go away. Like, really far away. And they should stay there. Not like that song “come along another day.” No. Screw that. It shouldn’t come back ever. It’s a waste of time to be worrying about every little thing that happens. It’s a waste of time. A waste. And I hate it. I hate it and I hate this person. And the worst part, of this worst feeling, of this worst semester, is knowing this. Knowing that they’re not going away. Because the fact is, this is me. I am this person. I cry. I complain. I act out irrationally. Not for any other reason than that I’m annoyed. At what? I don’t know, everything?! That’s not a good reason. And it’s not a good feeling. But regardless of how it feels, it’s not going away.And I hate that.
This story begins with me life.
While I’m lost and broken-hearted.
The feelings of rejection
leave me hurt and alone.
It is my deepest desire to feel
and to know what acceptance is.
The pulsing in my veins,
the fuluidity of blood flow,
every breath that I take,
every languid step,
reassures me that I’m still living.
There is repetition in my faith.
woah, why do I put myself in these situations? woah. I keep pushing myself even though I can’t take anymore.
I still have 95 pages to read, 3 to 5 pages to write, and 13 hours to do it in.
that’s half a day! and it’s not even that late! phew.
this book is incredibly uninteresting and uneventful.
and this paper is not going to be as simple and the last one was.
plus I need some of those 13 hours to sleep, preferably 5 of them, (dream big!)
so that’s, what? 8 hours to do this. I can do that.
c’mon. have some faith.
but really, let’s level.
I’m on tumblr talking about progress?
“Why,” you ask?
because he makes me smile, though that doesn’t take much.
and he genuinely makes me laugh.
(that was a serious understatement, but it was bound to happen.)
too bad it’s cliche, but nothing else matters when we’re together.
I can barely breath, I’m so wrapped up.
everything just feels right. nothing can go wrong.
hardly anything can break the mood; if anything, laughter’ll do it.
I’m not saying he’s perfect; he’s certainly not Mr. Right.
but that doesn’t matter because he’s being himself.
and that’s the only version I ever want to know.
it’s not one-sided, either. I can be myself around him.
my true self. not Mrs. Right; no, he doesn’t want that.
this is real. it’s the most real I’ve ever felt.
after all, why would we pretend when we could have the real thing?
we don’t have to be perfect because what brought us together is.
and we live this way because we know.
Love is real. that’s why.