My mind is constantly buzzing with information. At any given time, I have tens of thoughts flitting around inside my head like a group of hyperactive bumblebees. It’s very difficult to follow my train of thought in a conversation, and I imagine it will be difficult to figure it out on here as well.
I always tried to identify with characters in books I read, because I find my life boring. I longed for the adventures I read about. As I grew older, that longing turned to depression, as I realized my life would never be grand.
As I write this, I can feel my depression at the edges of my being. Dark fingers try to worm their way into my core, but there’s nothing there. To be honest, I don’t know if I have depression. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Over years, I’ve built a fascade so complex out of the lies I have told, I now have a hard time distinguishing what’s real from what isn’t. My mind is a bastard, and creates memories to help solidify the lies I tell. I want to stop. I want to be honest, but outside of this outlet, I can’t. I can’t- it hurts. It’s an existential pain.
Maybe this is guilt. Emotions are difficult for me. I don’t understand a lot of them. I get happiness, sadness, pure rage, and depression. When I feel nothing, I… unnerve myself. I have to feel, always
I like being kind because it’s the only time my life feels worthwhile. I hate being angry, because I burn myself out.
If you can imagine for a moment, a metal cage with thousands of lottery balls in it. Each ball is a thought, a memory, an impulse, a feeling, a craving, a desire, a loathing, a curiosity that wishes to be sated, a song, the taste of baby carrots that have sat out a little while, the smell of woodsmoke, the feeling of a rock I picked up when I was 9, the unrelenting heartache whenever I think of HER, the soothing sound of nature, the impressi9n of weight on my right shoulder…
Now throw the cage down a mountain that has no bottom. That’s what it’s like for me, every second of every day. The only escape I have is sleep.
Goodnight. Sleep tight. Do I? Probably not. I rarely sleep well. The buzzing keeps me up.
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