The end of the week
Is already here.
I’ve been waiting
Ahead of time.
The days no longer try
There is now
The scales from my eyes
Have been removed.
This is all one
But one day
I will end.
It’s really fall now. Leaves have finally started decorating the concrete.
Nature in the midst of buildings. One jungle inside another.
There’s music playing on my laptop. I’ve never heard the song, but it’s beautiful.
The kind of beautiful I want to be when I grow up. The kind I can point to and say “puberty did that”.
But high heels and rain don’t go together. Neither does this new song with my mood.
This one is okay. The tempo is a bit too quick, but I’ll leave it.
There’s purple near the ground and a colour like turmeric still hanging on to the limbs.
I hate when people stop outside the door. It makes me nervous. They can turn around and see me at any minute. I don’t want to be seen – not by them. I’m not ready.
It’s been raining for days, so I haven’t been able to wear my new sneakers. The running shoes I bought so I wouldn’t have an excuse, but that I’ve only used twice. I’ve decided to just wear them now. No sense in wasting a perfectly good pair of shoes.
A perfectly good life. A perfectly good day. Except is there any such thing? Was there ever any such thing?
To combat low self esteem you should look your best at all times.
Yeah – because that definitely works.
Because breathing is all I can do, I exhale and inhale through my tears, forcing myself not to think because combining problems won’t fix any of them and let’s not make this cry about everything wrong in my life. She is gone. It is unbelievable, but she is. And you did get lost today because you didn’t get enough sleep and you felt like a failure and you wanted attention from somewhere and couldn’t get it. Because the internet is not a person and notifications aren’t hugs.
It is okay that you forgot your class, because messing up five percent of your grade will not prove detrimental to your future or your well-being. You feel like you can’t keep track of everything at work, but it’s not your fault the office is understaffed and you are human. Please don’t beat yourself up.
She is gone, my love. And she loved you while she was here with all she had. Do the same, to yourself.
Love your body. It is the only one you have.
I pound against the doors of time
And beg them to release me.
Why did they lock me in here
When did they lock me in here
When will I be let go
Into the darkness
From whence I came –
Free from memories
I float on my emptiness
And wait to be swallowed up
By this great vacancy
Which I’ve been allowed to occupy.
I wrestle with my ambitions
And my knowledge
And I fight and give up
Side by side.
“What’s the use?”
I ask myself.
“There will be nothing
When this is over
The same way there was nothing before.”
I release my breath
And sink into myself.
“Endure,” I say
“It will all be over soon.”
It’s death again, and my life, and what I’m to do with it. My long distance relationship and when and how I’ll find out what love is. How long I’ll live. How long my father will live. How things were before I was here. How they will change after. Why I was even born in the first place. Why I am being made to deal with this. Why there isn’t forever. Whether or not there really is anything afterwards.
It’s 3:47 am and I’m awake thinking about these things, the same way I do any other time I’m awake.
Fulfillment, success, happiness. Will I be one of the lucky ones who get to have these things? Or will I be one of the sad ones who never figure anything out, spending their whole lives searching for answers only to not find anything at all?
How many more years until I come to any sort of conclusion?
I wonder how long
It will be
Till I get tired
Of sitting in hopes
Looking at everyone else
How to do it myself
Before I abandon
Towards creating a plan
With the feeling
That pushes me
That pulls me
How long before I stop
That I can’t
Because I’m not strong
How long before I realise
That I don’t need to be
Either of the two
How long before I stop standing
Before I stop lying down
Before I stop sitting
In anxious impatience
How long before I move
My fingers smell like chicken. I just finished eating the biggest salad of my life. He was on the phone, but not saying anything (the usual) while I carried on a conversation with a dear coworker I don’t get to see often. He sounded fine, the way he usually does after riling me up for what I think is no reason at all.
No reason at all. That’s the way it usually seems to the other person, doesn’t it? It’s never understood, where “all this” is coming from and what the purpose of it is.
Love. Tina Turner. What does it have to do with anything really?
I was thinking earlier today that maybe my love is just different. Either that or I am incapable of loving others which makes me a cold-hearted or heartless human being, which I am completely fine with. Even without the ability to love, I know what I possess the ability to empathize and to feel compassion for others. I know that I care about people and that is enough for me.
I’m on google now. I’m looking up the word love – who would’ve thought?
n. an intense feeling of deep affection
v. feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone)
I look at all the synonyms: deep affection, fondness, tenderness, warmth, intimacy, attachment, endearment. Care very much for, feel deep affection for, hold very dear, adore, think the world of, be devoted to, dote on, idolize, worship.
Scratch the last few off; I don’t have such regard for anyone. Everything else seems just about right though.
Just to make sure, I look up affection.
n. a gentle feeling of fondness or liking
n. affection or liking for someone or something
What’s the problem? I have all of these. I care for him, want him to be in good health, to eat and rest well, to he happy and successful. I want this for everyone. The only thing I lack is an emotional high, which one can’t be in for an ongoing period – unless drugs are involved – and those moments do come and go, so again, what’s the problem?
I’m impassive a lot of the time.
n. not feeling or showing emotion
I don’t mind that, at all. It means I can care for you deeply, but won’t fall into a wreck if one day you are not a part of my life anymore. I’m fine with that. I don’t want to think that my sanity or emotional well-being is dependent on any one person outside of myself. I have enough trouble trying not to live off of society’s approval.
The bottom line is that maybe I love you. Maybe I don’t. I’m fine with you in my life and I’m fine with you not in my life. Either way I’m unperturbed. I think this is a good thing. You know, self-preservation? It will help me to keep going in instances where I might become crippled.
But whatever. What do I know?