Where Are You? Where Am I?

I have no idea what to write right now but I feel like I want to. I feel like I need to. Please bare with me in my beginning rudimentary trials to gain back myself and my sense of articulation that has been so utterly detrimental to the make of my very being and soul because unfortunately I have currently seemed to have lost it.

So here goes,

I feel like my life is at a stop, or at least it is stagnant for now because I am in an in between. An in between from my life progress. Maybe that's why I put on hold my blogging progression for a while.

It's like this,
most of my days I seem to just be drifting through my daily duties while putting on a very believable facade to the rest of the world. (I am very good at pretending) What I really want to do is stay in bed or stay home all day submerged in the nothingness of fun not so deep literature (if you would call it that) and movies.

Or,
for the days that I do have to have a day, which is the five days of the week, I wake up Monday morning and immediately am wishing for a fast forward to the weekend where I can continue my hermitting nothingness.

It seems like my life is at a stop, but it also seems like I want my life to stop.

I guess I've lost my motivation for anything again. I am passing through my life. I know I am living, but I'm living through the events out of obligation rather than want. I always say I would rather live my life than live through it. And yes it still holds true, but as of right now or these months, I feel like I've lost something. I've lost that fire and that I'm filled with nothingness. I don't want to do anything and when I do, I end up feeling like there is no purpose to it.

And to be honest, as of now I really prefer to just be alone and not have to engage in public affairs. I just want to shut myself in my own spacial sanctuary of my room and house and not have to, shall I say "deal" with anything.

I wish to be someone else, to look like someone else, to have someone else's life. Maybe then I would feel fulfilled. And I think sometimes, am I still depressed? Was I even depressed to begin with? I don't have the answer to that. I mean for these past couple of months I haven't felt anything. I will say that I haven't been sad, but I haven't been fully ecstatic either.

I think I am completely broken. I knew I have been broken ever since I was a child, but maybe this is it for me. The final product. When you have been hit so hard with so many things, maybe it is impossible to come back. (And believe me with my erratic and fluctuating moods through my entries, I have tried so hard) I've always wondered how some people got to be the people they inhabit. Maybe this is the result. Broken people have to go somewhere right?

Despite all my solitude, all I really want is for strong arms to envelope me and to feel its genuine warmth. At night I dream of arms around me tight and the idea that everything is alright and perfect.

I just don't know.
And that is all I can ever seem to say.

I don't know about anything anymore about myself and life.
I think I've lost my fire and I don't know how to get it back.
I can't seem to get it back.