the problem with reading a good book is that you want to finish the book but you don’t want to finish the book
How is it that I can feel so many emotions so powerfully that they eat me alive, that my life is completely trapped and debilitated by them, so strong I am a hopeless cripple to their strength, but yet I feel nothing?
I feel everything, but I don’t actually feel anything.
Pain, pleasure, whatever it be, feelings both physical and emotional happen and they wash me over. I think of pain, I imagine pain, and it eats me alive. But when I actually get that piercing, that tattoo, when I actually cut myself or choke myself, when that sprained ankle or that aching back comes along, its all so sudued. The pain is there but in comparison to what I thought, it was nothing.
I’m numb to actual experience, sucked in a mindless wanderlust for feeling and trapped in my hypothetical world.
I fret and worry and hate myself and others over the idea of things. I tell myself I’m a slut and berade myself and hurt and ache over it, but when in reality, I don’t think I’m a slut. I felt nothing from the experience. It was fun. It happened. He was great. But I’m done now. And that’s that.
I live in this made up world of morals I’ve placed all of my value to and expect myself to adhere to them when in reality I don’t even believe in them.
People have died because of me, or so I like to think, so I berade myself with, but in reality, I don’t think it’s my fault. I don’t even really think it happened. I don’t think she died. I don’t think she existed. I definitely don’t actually feel responsible, and I hate myself for it, but I don’t feel grief at her loss. I don’t feel anything. It happened. It was a thing. And now its done. That’s that.
It’s all made up. Made up aches and made up sadness but yet its so overwhelming so completely consuming it is me. These emotions that I don’t have are like a lethal fungus growing upon my brain consuming every inch of it, covering up the real me, leaving my normal bodily functions to continue as per usual but at the same time ochestrating an entire cataclysm of personality just under the surface.
I’m trapped underneath it a void heartless person that I’ve grown to actually admire, but it’s driving me mad, these feelings, these emotions, these aches. I’m a lot stronger than I’d like to think, a lot braver, better, smarter, but that’s all under this insane, lethal, feeling and emotion hurricane.
Yes, I’m much alike a hurricane. I’m a bundled and a bustle and a wave of destruction in every direction, headed on a self destructive path that will ultimate cause me to pitter out and fade away as a person, but in the middle, inside the storm, I am calm and cool and collected and rational. I am heartless and relaxed. I’m a person, enough.
You once told me I was a raincloud and I brought with me wherever I went a soggy sad storm of my negatibve energy, much alike a rain cloud. You were close, definitely close, but I find I’m much more alike this hurricane, this tropical storm I’ve described. At first it seems like it’s just some rain, some dreariness, some misery, but then my winds pick up and I sweep away your home, your relationships, and your life before tapering out to a weathered drizzle once more, moving on to the next poor sap that comes my way.
You were close. I wish you were right, but at the same time, I don’t really care either way about your rights and wrongs in regard to me.
It’s all just happening around me.
Me on dating #30rock #dating #boys #girls #singleforlife #lizlemon