i dont have much left to say anymore.
i dont speak much at all really. at least not about the things going on in my head.
how could i speak to you about them when i'm not even sure what i'm thinking?
everything has been put into a blender. and i am now speechless and confused. i once was very social. the phone was always ringing and i was always going somewhere to see someone.
now the phone rarely rings, which is my fault because i never answer, and i hate leaving the lonely cocoon of my room. i like being alone now. actually i hate it, but it's much more safe.
i wish i could articulate to you, to anyone, these sharp pangs and deep tremblings, this disgust for people, this fear of people.
i once was the one with all the love. i once loved things just because things, i thought, deserved to be loved just for existing. i'd go out of my way to talk to anyone.
but now i'm just quiet.
i keep to the shadows. when i see someone i know in public i step out of my way to avoid them, to avoid small talk, to avoid pretending.
sometimes i feel like my insides are getting so empty that a slight breeze could make me fold in on myself. but the urge to push through these calamities evades me and i stand there listless, anxious, bored.
most of all, i fear that love no longer can move these mountains. the innocent things in me have been spoiled. the part of me that was capable of love has been uncovered, raped, discarded.
all these girls in dresses and these pretty boys, so many chances to not be alone, and i look past them to the walls. i look past them because they are too untouched, too clean, too human to understand or even see the reason i dont want to leave my room. they shouldnt see or feel this whiplash. this crushing wave. it's not human. none of this is. and these contaminated stories shouldnt be seen by the innocent and unbroken.
so i wont tell you the stories behind these pathetically emo posts. i'd rather you go on believing i'm just dramatic and whiny. they are my burden to bare, my secret to keep.
M
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