As I spill my thoughts out onto this page it seems like it will never end. As my thoughts roll and spin in my head everyday, I try and have tried to stop it. I stop the thoughts, the constant judgement, the constant feeling of having everything straightened out to be perfect, remembering assignments, dates, times, locations. It never stops. But what really hurts the most isn’t the spinning facts of things I need to remember, but the memories I try to forget or otherwise suppress away to let itself find it’s way back to me. And little did I know, it creeps up to me like the shadows that appear near sunset when the lights barely linger anymore in the streets. It lives inside my conscience, my memories locked away with my feelings. Through this barrier that I don’t know how to unfold. Or break down. Crash into or even burn.
As I try to illuminate my feelings onto this webpage it pains me to feel my emotions and yearn so much to pour everything I feel, everything I see into words. My thoughts, my feels, my imagination, all seen through my vision right in front of me yearning to learn how to show you all what I see. As I try to learn to interpret myself, interpreting the thoughts I have, scenes I see, moments I have, and the aches of love I feel – I lay here aimlessly trying to determine what the best way is to begin. Maybe backwards. My childhood. The thing or memory I can recall the farthest. The dreams I use to have for myself. The stubbornness of the soul that I felt was so unsettled, but has come to calm so serenely.
The love I feel each and everyday after my heart and tears have been torn apart so fast and reluctantly by the ones I loved so much yet hate so dearly with a passion. It still aches my heart to this day. Love hurts and hurting is pain. Physical pain, no. Emotional pain, no. Pain in my soul, yes. My soul hurts. It’s exhausted. I feel airless. Floating everyday. Questioning my mere purpose and existence on this earth. Why?
Decisions once made. Why? Decisions I have been making. Why? The decisions I will continue to make. Why? The talents I yearn. Why? The people I hope for. Why?
The day I feel as if I will need no one, but everyone will need me as I feel obligated to become so selfless. I become a machine ignoring my own needs, because what is so tragic about my life? My life is pure serenity. No problems to face, no hate to burn, no tears to shed, no death to mourn – yet. Life is perfect.
Until it’s ready to crash and burn and pull me down into bits and pieces like the earth cracking itself open crumbling me into pieces like saltine crackers being smashed by the palms of a 7 month old baby.
Will I be ready.