little-misstake

Every time I read one of my writings I feel pathetic and it doesn't surprise me that it took me so long to realise why. It's because I write about pathetic people: me and my deepest other selves.

Sometimes I just don't know what to think. There's so many words inside my head but none of them makes sense. I try to put them together and formulate phrases but I don't know their meaning. I know their definition - not their meaning. Seems like I'm thinking about 100 different things, 100 different subjects at the same time - feels messy. Not just the words, but everything in my life feels out of place. I wish I had a place to call home - then would be easier to put things there and start organising them. When things are in order they make more sense... or in this case, they would make sense. When everything is out of place certain things

I haven't been writing properly lately... Sometimes I guess I'm trying to hide these feelings from myself, because looking at them and realising things is difficult, and I cannot stant so much pain. Everything is so ugly. But it doesn't work; when you think you can just ignore them, they will say: fucking no. And they will become way much stronger & will make you feel insane. That's the proper word: sanity. That's what I've been lacking of.