04/06/2011

Implosion

I need to pull myself together but I can't, apathy is high. Need to feel something, something other than distress, stress. The hurdles feel to high, 2 meter tall they stand before me. Those mental walls are too tall, too wide, too heavy to lift, too immobile to move. It is all in my head, or is it my heart? My heart's not in it. Don't want to leave behind the safety of uncertainty. Yet I am stippled with claustrophobia, with neighbourly love and annoyance, with familiar people and places. The only way out is through slaughter and battles. Have to stop to breath in the sense I've lost since the village took me in and made me visible to everyone, to you, to them. I can see the despair in all the eyes around me, looking for a reason to search and disperse. Every second day life is afresh and new, every second day life is meaningless and black. Feel too small to write or read, feel too stupid to take it all in. Next to you I am pretty still, I let you speak before I open my mouth, careful words shaped like my lips, straight. I don't hide much, just my soul.

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