It doesn’t go away. It won’t go away. I just have to learn to live with this disease. “We do not look how we feel.” Our facades are so beautiful, so impeccably designed, yet underneath, underneath we are blackened, oozing pus from rotting wounds, skin chaffing off, our blood hot red, heart lost somewhere in the eyes, torn from it’s place, seeking a new home within the body, a home which cannot exist.

I couldn’t get hold of my parents for two days, started to freak out and assume something horrible had happened. Funny how we end up parenting our parents. I am so hungry for something that feels like home. A familiar face, a room that knows me well. Something that soothes the soul, whatever that is. My soul has deserted me, I feel. I feel like a forest robbed of trees.

I am tired of introspection, of digging farther and farther into myself. I am tired of self-pity, of living inside. There’s a whole world around me. I’m living with a bag over my head. This is why I fell in love with performing, to be so engaged with the world outside of me, the people outside of me. I’m struggling so deeply to stay out of myself, to connect. Verbinden, to connect. Verbinden verbinden verbinden. Fly fly fly out to the sky, connect to the world outside.

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
This entry was posted in Archive, Non-Fiction and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.