One Of Those (The Couch Pt. II)
I used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling
Why am I so differently wired? Am I a Martian?
What kind of twisted experiment am I involved in?
’Cause I don’t belong in this world…
It’s one of those days again. Hard to move any face muscles at all. You know those cold stares at the wall? It’s one of those. Eyes fixed on random inanimate objects seeing nothing, it’s one of those.
And I know that, even if I’m distracted in some way, I won’t leave this dimension that I’m in now. Walk up to me and strike up a conversation, you’ll be welcomed by my absent-mindedness. I’ll reply and attend to you, but won’t be sorry for the awkwardness, or the lack of good energy.
This is when I want to sit in silence not needing to say anything with a special someone, hopefully in the near future, in my future sessions of reflecting, growing, healing. The light can be off… or we could let it stay on, but it’s gonna feel dark either way. And of course, though I’ll feel unlovable all the way, in the end I want to find comfort in her hands touching my face… and hair. I’ll probably wake up feeling huggable the next day. Not saying that’ll make things easier; but it’ll be more meaningful that way, unlike what’s gonna happen tomorrow.
But I also have to say this; writing does make it somewhat meaningful. It’s so unlike the times I didn’t write. And let me say that I am not deep in grief or denial. I don’t want to self-harm or run away. It’s just my mind is a bit… blurry.
A voice in my head wanted to kind of scream “Hey you goddamned loner, it’s the same old state; you’re just so sensitive, stop playing yourself,” though; I didn’t let him talk me into it. Not today, fucker. I am feeling small;doesn’t mean I’m weak.
I don’t know if it’s needed to state that, when you’re fighting your demons, there’s going to be many, many nights like these. So many people, including one of my past selves, would want to escape these. But I think one should know better than that. Now I sit until the clouds start to move. If life needs to be colorful, then “happy” can’t be my only home. Living to the fullest to me is feeling everything.And I can’t walk around decorating them with toxic-positive phrases, right? That feels so plastic.
But can realness be the answer to everything? I don’t know, let’s find out.
I used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling
Now I think the fact that I’m differently wired’s awesome
’Cause if I wasn’t I wouldn’t be able to work
Words like this and connect lines like crosswords…
