Day 12

“It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.”

— Sylvia Plath

this unexplainable urge for a life i've never had, will never have. for a life so far from mine, it doesn't even know i exist. and yet, the yearning. oh the yearning, what do i do with it?

i would like to live a small life with a small love. which is not to say it will be less. it will be all that we need. nothing too big for the world to see, just ours. no grand promises of forever. but holding you through the night will be enough.

i'm so close. so fucking close to not caring. i'm so close to not giving an actual fuck about anything. anything. i could just stop. stop paying attention in class. stop doing my homework. stop studying. just stop. and no one can make me do anything if only i choose that.

i'm so close to the point where i just stop caring. about anything, everything. and it's scary. it's fucking scary. cos this isn't what i should want. i shouldn't want to stop, to give up, to leave. i'm too fucking young to think that life isn't worth it. i'm too fucking young to feel this tired. i shouldn't want to stop. i should want to live. i should want to read at a french café on a rainy friday. i should want to see the whole world from the top of the highest mountains. i should want to look at the skeletons of times gone by and people who tried to make a difference. i should want to know every single story that ever existed or ever will. i should want to wake up at one end of the world and fall asleep on another. i should want to write down all the words that are inside me. i should want to see the sun rise in rome and see it set in new york. i should want all of that. i should want to live. live a goddamned life. but all i wanna do is stop. all i wanna do is go to sleep and never wake up again. all i wanna do is stop. what do i do?

there's no evidence that growth is painful.

then how do you explain the ache in my chest. how do you explain this constant urge to carve out my heart and leave it in a dark room, away from all eyes, in a place it can't be touched.

of promises

and how i break them

there was my mother

i promised to never let her cry

the first one i broke

there were my friends

ones i promised to stay with forever

i broke them anyway

there were my words

all the 'iloveyou's and 'imissyou's and 'i'mtrying's

i promised to say them

only when i meant them

i broke those too

there were my tears

i promised to shed them only on those

who deserved them

well, when have i ever kept my promises?

then there was you

asking me to promise

and i'm gonna break this too

i promise anyway

so many homes, so many goodbyes. where do i stay. where do i leave. i leave and i long. i run away until the road ends and then some more. too long, too far. i never want to leave anywhere. and then, everywhere. but is it really a tragedy, to have so much to love. so much to lose.

all this love would make sense if it wasn't for me

it gets difficult to breath again. everyone is so far away. and i'm afraid. afraid that even if i do find the words to ask for help somehow, they won't hear me. afraid that even if i do start screaming, they won't know it's me. everyone is so far away and a part of me tells me it's for the best but gods, do i wish someone would hold me while my heart breaks.

day 7

10:40 p. m.

it's october now. don't you remember the poems? don't you remember the quotes? you can't be sad in october. it's for happiness and sunshine and smiles. but here's the longing, the missing. a thousand miles made of pain.

maybe one day the world won't hurt so much. maybe one day these words won't be a way to make sense out of all this. maybe one day.

i hope i stay for that day.