I've found a new "favorite place" out here in the suburbs. It's quiet with lots of trees. Today I saw a deer and watched two baby rabbits hop for about ten minutes. They were fuzzy and cute. I'm starting to believe that writing outdoors will save my life, or confirm the many reasons to the contrary. Here's a blurb of what my brain told me today. I'm leaving out the rant about moving to a convent...
There are days when I wake up and it feels as though the world decided to spin backwards while I was sleeping. Gravity remains intact and I am still rooted on the ground but nothing feels the same. There are days when laughter is empty, smiles lose all meaning. Sometimes I can't tell if I want to scream, shout, or just curl up into a ball and cry.
It's funny to me how in a moment, a breath of a second, the entire world can change. Sometimes for the better, other times not... There are days when I can feel so small, small and shrinking. Other days, without my glasses, the world grows. Things can appear to me to be too large. Everyday objects seem foreign and everything is out of place.
I feel out of place.
I have always felt that way and there has always been something inside me, a quiet little voice, that urges me to run, to leave everything and everyone that I know behind. But I can never seem to manage it. I've tried time and time again but the quiet voice inside me is never satisfied. It never goes away.
I have realized over time that it is fate. Me and the little voice are both condemned. Neither will ever truly be satisfied with this life. And knowing that and feeling the world spin backwards, feeling small and shrinking behind my glasses, I wish for everything to end. Fade to black and finally silence the quiet voice inside me.
Day after day I wait and listen and sometimes I wonder where it all comes from. I sometimes feel like there are a million eyes looking at me but none of them ever really see me. It's a rare feeling of bliss to know the feeling of being truly seen by someone, with the good and the bad. But those rare people that enter my life don't usually stay. I'm beginning to believe that there won't ever be anyone like that in my life and honestly... I would love to say that I don't care. Normally I'd say that I wear my heart on my sleeve but I can feel a change inside me lately and my mangled heart is growing cold, carefully hidden back in place behind my rib cage.
I don't think I'll ever feel whole again.
There are days when I wake up and it feels as though the world decided to spin backwards while I was sleeping. Gravity remains intact and I am still rooted on the ground but nothing feels the same. There are days when laughter is empty, smiles lose all meaning. Sometimes I can't tell if I want to scream, shout, or just curl up into a ball and cry.
It's funny to me how in a moment, a breath of a second, the entire world can change. Sometimes for the better, other times not... There are days when I can feel so small, small and shrinking. Other days, without my glasses, the world grows. Things can appear to me to be too large. Everyday objects seem foreign and everything is out of place.
I feel out of place.
I have always felt that way and there has always been something inside me, a quiet little voice, that urges me to run, to leave everything and everyone that I know behind. But I can never seem to manage it. I've tried time and time again but the quiet voice inside me is never satisfied. It never goes away.
I have realized over time that it is fate. Me and the little voice are both condemned. Neither will ever truly be satisfied with this life. And knowing that and feeling the world spin backwards, feeling small and shrinking behind my glasses, I wish for everything to end. Fade to black and finally silence the quiet voice inside me.
Day after day I wait and listen and sometimes I wonder where it all comes from. I sometimes feel like there are a million eyes looking at me but none of them ever really see me. It's a rare feeling of bliss to know the feeling of being truly seen by someone, with the good and the bad. But those rare people that enter my life don't usually stay. I'm beginning to believe that there won't ever be anyone like that in my life and honestly... I would love to say that I don't care. Normally I'd say that I wear my heart on my sleeve but I can feel a change inside me lately and my mangled heart is growing cold, carefully hidden back in place behind my rib cage.
I don't think I'll ever feel whole again.
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