It has been SO LONG since I’ve written, or published a post with my writing. The thing, I’m spending a lot of time for college and have simply not found the time to write. But recently, I jotted a few small things, and I thought I’d share them with you today! They’re not very good, or eloquent, but they’re just some things that were going through my mind when I was down for a bit.
There are too many versions of those three words.
I move on too fast, they say.
I never really stopped.
I hide too much.
It’s a blessing and a curse.
Everyone is unique.
It also means I’m alone.
I don’t fit into a plan, goal or path.
Tunnel vision throws me out.
Is it me, or is time moving too fast for us to even breathe in life, rather cherish it.
I want to show off my talent.
I want to hide myself.
I am not un-noticed, but I’m also not really noticed.
Where does that leave me?
When you internalise pain, you start to recognise it in others’ eyes too.
Sometimes I wish I was an open book.
Then I’m glad I’m not.
Simple choices make big impacts.
That’s why I hesitate at every step.
I don’t know who I am.
How can I explain myself to others?
They started associating invincibility with numbness.
She was wind.
Everyone enjoys her touch, but no one sees her.
I want to be fearless, standing on the edge of the roof.
But I’m also suicidal.
The words convey only half of it. The tone conveys the rest.
Text messages mask so much.
Happiness and contentment draw me in.
Perhaps it’ll balance me.
But I might also destroy it.
Probably. Maybe. Someday. We’ll see.
These words exist in my vocabulary to escape from attachment.
By the time I brave up to say something, everyone’s moved on. I am left behind.
In more ways than one.
I need human interaction to prove to myself that I’m still alive.
But I also just want to be alone.
I am not afraid of oblivion.
I am afraid of recognition.
Let’s play a game called
who notices when I’m gone.
I am afraid of being understood.
I want to be understood.
I am a f r a i d of being understood.
The only place I find complete comfort is in the depths of my mind.
But that’s also where I drown.
Sometimes all I want is to feel.
Other times, I simply want to be numb.