11 септември, 2015

black is poetic

Black is my new happy color for some weird reason. I just felt like expressing myself a bit more obviously. The internet had the ability to make you both feel like getting drunk, high, throwing yourself in front of a bus or sleeping for a whole week. I watched some videos of this girl who is really honest about the things happening in her life and I'm here avoiding talking to the right people about mine. So yeah, I'm a coward who is pretty certain no one will understand, so I simply avoid it all by writing my stuff and pretending the world isn't falling over me yet again. Feelings are just waves and they fade away. That's what they tell you. But no one seems to know how to wait them out without doing something stupid. Like screw things up with someone you like. Well, that one is my most favorite thing to do. I always screw up because I care too much and want it all and I want it now and that scares people. No one seems to be able to handle all that. Some dared to do so and failed. 
Not doing anything is slowly sucking the life out of me and I want Sofia and I want things to start happening. I feel restless like I've been drinking coffee after coffee all day. And I'm on decaf. It kind of makes me want to have been that way when I was taking one cup after another. Or to have never taken any in the first place. I guess I switched my darkest bad habit with smoking. And now that it's gone, I feel the need to get back to some of them, because there's a reason I need bad habits, if you know what I mean. Or not. 
It sucks to be the only one aware of your own awesomeness, huh. Yet when I have the chance to let it shine, I turn into a complete idiot and blow it. I thought I didn't know who I was. Oh, I found her. She just doesn't fit in, so I'm in hiding. my music is too emotional, my thoughts are too dark, my jokes and comments are too dirty or cinical, I care too much or not at all. I seem like an ungrateful bitch, yet I feel the constant need to show people that I care and I'm there for them. Even if I'm the one that needs comfort. That reminds me of a time when I wanted to hug people just so they'd hug me back. Because I didn't want to seem weak, so I pretended to be super excited and hug them. 
Do you really want to know why I was smiling that night when you called? Because after the day i've had and the constant waves drowning me, hearing your voice and you making jokes... It made me feel light even when anxiety was kicking my ass. You somehow made it okay and not many people can do that. And at times I am faking it, even if it seems like I'm not. Because seeming brave makes me feel a bit stronger even if I'm not. Whatever gets me through the day, you know. Which is why I feel so bad that I screwed up and I miss talking to you about stupid stuff and games because of the way you've always made me feel. 
The second I start writing about someone, they get a tag and they turn into a muse. Something that somehow made me feel special and I'm an addict for that, so I want more. It's not me trying to get attached. It's me being a writer and seeing people with fire in their heart and wanting to maybe even get burned from that fire in order to get close to them. 
What doesn't kill me sure makes me a better writer, huh. I'll have more to write about tomorrow, I hope. 

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