Emptiness Scribbled down on Monday, 22 August 2005 0:59:09 AM
Unless I've written something, I can't crawl into bed. And why should I go to that place? I would only be spending a restless few hours, fighting few images that passed me by like movies scenes behind my closed eyes. That is when I wake up, that I can see that. Dreams are as vivid as the reality. If you could lock me in it, pretending it was real, I would not doubt it. Rarely have I had lucid dreams to remember that it was all a dream. I'm annoyed by anything lately. It was like something was stuck in my stomach, like sickness. I wanted to pull it out, that slymery stick. It felt like it and it made me feel sick. I am still longing to vomit and be clean. I have a deep longing and it makes me disappear into mournings. Countless times I repeat to myself that self-pleasure is wrong. It isn't. I am only telling myself I haven't done anything to have self-pleasure as a reward, so I must keep my hands away from it. I'm hungry and thirsty for this bond, something near me. It's sad I can't have it or him close. I don't want to talk about it, except saying that thinking about it, made me feel so relaxed, calmed and beautiful. I thought that doing many things made you beautiful. There should be a working, general verb saying so: Today.. I beautified myself and everyone would know what I'm talking about. Or he beautified me to a point I felt I was going to die or I could not grasp the depth of it. If your life has meaning, you'd know as when you would answer the question what you'd miss if you die, you would be able to answer it. I can't really. I would only feel sorry I couldn't have met a soulmate, knowing that crazy people like me do walk around on this planet. I wished I had this magnetic stone to attract him or her, I would've been satisfied. I don't feel... 'real'. Do ask me why happiness would make me feel real. I can't tell. Perhaps because you shared it with someone. If you spend your time in emptiness, you will feel yourself transforming, becoming it. Then you doubt your existence. Funny, right now, infront of this computer. I am not feeling like I am alive. Therefor I feel I can write everything, it wouldn't matter as no one knows me and there's no one who can read. I don't feel there's anyone out there except me in this nothingness as I am nothingness and there's nothing else than me. Do you understand me? My feelings were sometimes so embarrassing and intense, I didn't dare to speak them out loud. Even my thoughts, I tried to limit them when people were walking in the room and out (as if they could see them). Still they brought me some consolation. I hated it that there was someone out there who possibly cared about me and had to be away for so long. I was so sad and lost that any arms would do well as shelter. I would let myself go if I know someone cares, even they are just words. I always say at least you've used such formulated phrases on me, that means a lot as I'm so lost.

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