THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
I am still in empty shell mode.
I dreamt about blood last night. I drowned in it....But it wasn't mine. It was someone else's. And I don't know whose.
And that seems unhealthy.
I feel sick to my stomach right now. Just ill. At the thought of everything. I just want to fall asleep. But I can't.
I had a drama rehersal today from ten in the morning until eight o clock. It was....Highly uneventful. I do get to this awesome dance at the end though. Funny- I never I thought I would use the words "awesome" and "dance" in the same sentance. But it's fun as hell and I don't fucking care if I look like an idiot.
...I don't care....About much.
Actually, I feel really weird right now.
I can feel summer right now. I want that so much. And not just to be out of school. It's something else.
It's the ability to let my mind free and not be so harnessed by school. To be able to exist within the world again. And not just within my self.
I think.
Otherwise, I'm just losing my mind and suffering from suicidal hallucinations.
But hopefully, it's the first one.
Because suicide seems like a lame way to go. Might as well live it up I say.
And I think that death will stop lurking around the edge of my thoughts once I don't have to sit in class for hours and think about physics and algebra.
When what happened during the Civil War doesn't even matter. And I don't need to know the difference from a verb and an adverb.
When I can focus soley on living, before my life is plunged into something so much worse than what this is.
I want to be able to go horseback riding and take as long as I want. To go out an look at the sky. And not have to worry about ever going home.
It's been along time since I could do that.
To put it simply: I need mental freedom right now.
Which sounds strange.
Yet so appealing.
I find it so amusing that so many people need constant entertainment. Given the choice, my thought roam freely amongst themselves at will. But I think that that's just from writing.
From the fact that I put everything into words and build story upon image and words into lives.
Which really sucks, if you think about it.
I hate having so little focus.
Nevermind. That doens't make sense.
But nothing ever does.
Have you ever realized how beautiful old scissors are? The ones with lots of rust? They have a certain appeal.