Monday, August 19, 2013

August 19, 2013 ~ 2:43am

This is not a journal entry, but something about being awake this late makes me feel like a walking void. Which doesn't make since because in this case I mean a completely empty space. Being up this late, or rather early, makes me think about the last time that I was consistently up at this time and later/earlier. I was so unhappy. And I know it isn't completely gone. Sometimes I feel it in segments through a span of days or weeks. Sometimes all at once. Sometimes I can't breathe. Right now I feel numb. I'm thinking about everything and absolutely nothing and I don't understand myself. I am just existing mostly. I'd rather sit alone and observe people from afar. But maybe not everyone was meant for participation. And maybe it means something when you think about someone and they contact you within that same day before not speaking for yet almost another month. And maybe it means something to put others before yourself. Maybe it means something to just want to sleep all day. Maybe it means something when you start humming a song you haven't heard in years. And maybe it means something to like people a little more despite how they treat you sometimes. Or maybe it doesn't mean anything at all.


1 comment:

  1. so last wednesday, we got back home from church a little early. it was still a little after 9pm and the moon was shy. we have this oak tree that takes up the space between my yard and my neighbours' (the newlyweds), and i decided to stand under it and take a deep breath. that's when i started to get dizzy. like, you know those instances where it's like oh my gosh okay suddenly i exist here, and your eyes and stomach and head start doing weird things and you see the world differently, and you feel like you're falling over but you're standing upright, and then it just goes away like that. and you're wondering what happened, but you just keep going until the next instance.

    i like to think that we've always been that way. that we walk around feeling and not feeling. that everything is kind of... unbalanced and there is a hole inside of us, but we've adapted to this atmosphere so we can do what we have to.

    friendly notification that you are not a journal entry. you have to live (at least breathe) between the times you write so you have something to say. you have to have a heart to connect, and you do that well. just not in the way people expect you to (and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that). long nights are the pits, and i suppose that's a good way to explain how you felt last night (to be honest, i didn't sleep well saturday night either; something was off), and i'm running out of things to say, but i'd just like to get to my point.

    my point is, i've felt like a walking void too. or maybe felt isn't the wrong word because numbness screws everything over. but every time i see you laugh/smile, there's something that your eyes hint at. it's not happiness or "genuine joy." it's the roots of the flowers that are filling that hole. (roots, soil. your eyes are brown. your smile is green with life and your laugh is a menagerie of hues that have found their perfect blend.) and sometimes your eyes dilate and the blackness is still there, but friendly reminder that sometimes there are gateways into the darkest parts of you.

    but that is also where the flowers make their home. and then, they are the gateways to the best parts of you. because you are the best, ocean. and sometimes you cry and sometimes you need to splash water on your face. but all that does is make the flowers grow.