This was written last night... but for some reason I forgot to post it.
Fuck you rain! Yeah... fuck you. Somehow telling you over the internet feels better than shouting it in the middle of the street. Somehow. As the water seeped into my shoes, I remembered home, salty in my memory and far enough away for the cold to take hold. Home, a strange word. Anywhere I lay my head can be considered home and when I’m back home no doubt I will feel the need to leave again. I don’t feel this is my home, not yet. I’m not familiar with the streets; I don’t know the people... I fear being alone within its imaginary walls. Home is simply a word people created to make themselves feel comfortable in one place.
I don’t know... I’m not thinking clearly. This whole blog is a wheel spin in the shit. My day has been filled with doubt of many kinds. I’ve been out, I’ve been with people, I did work... and still I felt no sense of reality in any of it. Underneath though, in my mind somewhere deep and hidden I know there is pain and suffering everywhere, somewhere... and I’m not the centre of the earth, I’m not important. For all that though, it still feels like I am suffering. In my own way. At my own pace. By myself.
Infact, Bright Eyes has been keeping me company of late. I've been listening to Conor's words on repeat. He has a way with words, a way of summing up my exact thoughts both lyrically and musically. This is why I love music... it becomes a friend in times of need.
Days spill into each other like ink on a canvas, and I don’t know where I am anymore. I go through the same routine, day after day... or some days I mix things up and go the complete opposite. I go from a human to a creature of the night, and I sleep away the days. As I have said before, I prefer the night. The silence feels comfortable.
Friends are strange things. I still don’t know what a real friend is, or at least I don’t think so. I have never felt a bond so strong that I keep friendships up forever. I just don’t. When I move on, in general, so do they, and I too. When I see friends together, I do wonder if I look the same with people I am with often, or if I look uncomfortable with it, the company. I always seem to attract the people though that give little and take a lot, time and energy, various forms of communication, life. Sometimes it makes me think, and when I think like this I just want to curl into a ball and hide in the shadows. I should be grateful for what I have because it’s more than some, but there is this constant knot in me that always seems to get caught.
Something else that annoys me is people who are consistently late... but thats another story.
Everything feels like a competition... and I’m losing. I’m just a spelling mistake on a sheet of paper. What a sad view of life this is. Yet it is what it is, and although I despise and hate the way I feel, I still find comfort in it. It’s an addiction this mindset. You want with everything to just leave it behind but at the same time it seems to be a part of you, an integral part of your very fibre and being... though it’s not.
I write often about this feeling. This mindset. And I have realised that the only reason I do so is not in figuring things out as I go along, as I once thought. It’s not that it’s a way to make sense of something that otherwise seems senseless... I write it all down because I one day hope for it to pass. It’s that simple. I hope one day I may look back and see I have overcome this demon that lives within me, this plaque that rots my life at the moment. And because of that hope, it gives me strength to carry on.
'I fell for the promise of a life with a purpose'
Bright Eyes - If Winter Ends
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