THE WEATHER FORECAST TODAY IS SUNNY.
You're in for a treat.
(I do not own any of the photos unless otherwise stated. Or unless it's obvious that they're mine.)
THE GREAT DIVIDE.
Nobody knows. But I'm in love with the world.
I'm right now at the gloriously confusing age of NINETEEN.
I am still the same girl,
but with new tactics,
a new boyfriend,
a new lease on life,
and a brand new transcontinental address from where I used to live.
You are entitled to a sneak peek at what my heart looks like from the inside.
(K these photos are mine, I took them at the CNE!)
Sunday, July 12, 2009
| I miss your bed, I never sleep. |
I have a feeling. And it's on my chest. It feels really heavy and awful, and I'm sweating (of course, I should probably mention that my window is closed), and I can't do anything about it.
I wanna lie down on my bathroom floor, and maybe cry a few tears, sob a few sobs. But hey. Our bathroom doesn't have the extravagant floor space. And besides, it hasn't been cleaned. So I'll settle for a bed somewhere (I say that because the beds in our bedroom are not available, they have been affected by the rampage of packing), and cry my tears and sob my sobs there.
My parents hate my guts. Because I don't sleep early. Is it really my fault I have so much to think about I can't fall asleep easy? I think about things I shouldn't be thinking about. I think about things that really, really hurt in places I don't even have a name for. These things are consequently irreversible until the end of time--no, there is no 'unless' to this. Things really are as bad as they seem--maybe even a lot more. But I don't know. I suppose the world has forgotten about it, but I believe it's only because I'm out of sight most of the time. You know what they say: out of sight, out of mind.
I know what you're thinking. You think I'm being overly sensitive, because the world has bigger problems. Like getting your debts paid, or moving your family to North America. But I'm 18 years old. My problems are as major as getting the debts paid are for you, believe me. There's only so much that my mental and emotional capacity can handle, so please spare me. Besides, something in me has really changed, and just for the record, I believe I'm putting up a good fight. I hardly even talk about anything, save for a few conversations with the voice in my head (cuckoo).
That's what I think about at night.Of course, it's the condensed version.
Bottom line is fateful nights really do happen, and sadly, unfortunately, one had happened to me. Even more unfortunate is the fact that I still have not recovered, and I'm scared I might never. But like this one person said to me, I just gotta deal with it.
