"This momentary joy breeds months of pain;
This hot desire converts to cold disdain."
So much has happened in these slow, few months. I look back into my previous posts and wonder what had bugged me then because as of right now, I have officially hit rock bottom. You can't see shit from rock bottom.
I don't know what it is that triggered my emotions to spill out in front of every single being in my life. In the last couple of days, hours even, I have openly bled my soul unto people. I guess it can be deciphered as a cry for help, but here I sit at 3:10AM, openly naked and cut open. It's cold.
But I am here to tell you of my month and recent escapades:
I have made friends. With an extraordinary group of people who I love with all of my heart- even if some don't deserve it. And in just a few weeks, I feel as if I had known them all of my life and I wish with all of my heart for them to be a permanent part of my life. Because I don't think I have the strength to let another group of people leave.
But the funny thing is, I am leaving.
I have been saying over and over again, I have to go, I have to go, I have to go. And I am finally fucking going.
This is what I need the most: to leave. And I finally am.
But is it pathetic? To be scared. I'm so afraid to leave and to come back to a completely different environment.
All the while, I'm sitting here, wondering with my scarred arms and bloody face, what the hell I am going to do. What had caused this downfall and what had triggered my breakdown? Had it been the drugs or was this already coming?
Again, I'm so afraid for my future. So scared that everybody will be out and about, making ends, while I sulk and cry all day. I'm so scared for my dark canvas that I don't know if I had made the right decision. I wish I could say that I am leaving, in hopes of brightening my future, but I don't think I am. My painting is charred and burnt, will I ever have the power to color it with the songs and melodies it once held?
Again, I'm so afraid for my future. So scared that everybody will be out and about, making ends, while I sulk and cry all day. I'm so scared for my dark canvas that I don't know if I had made the right decision. I wish I could say that I am leaving, in hopes of brightening my future, but I don't think I am. My painting is charred and burnt, will I ever have the power to color it with the songs and melodies it once held?
I'm leaving in tears and in absolute fear for my future. I'm leaving in hopes for finding a future, murdering my life here. I'm leaving everything that once meant so dear to me, will my feelings remain the same when I return? Will I even come back?
Someone, something, help me find myself. Whether I had lost it, whether I had ever found it, help me find me and never let it go.
