My, My, My

I love this cover so much. It just makes me want to keep pouring my heart out. Good feels, we could all use a little more.

Obsessed

Counting

I really meant what I said a while ago.

I'd be content just to stay in this bed for the rest of my life.

Closet OCD

We've all joked about having OCD whenever we, control freaks, have to explain that we like things a certain way. Our way. And so I find myself thinking lately, with my newly acquired spare time, if I have, like a pinky full of OCD. But please, hear me out.

At odd times, I find myself counting in my head. I don't understand, but just counting. I don't know if it's found a spot in my routine life and become a force of habit now, because I like to go to the gym regularly and it has to do with counting reps.

Or, the reason I like going to the gym is because of the constant repetition and the counting of consecutive numbers.

I always come out so zen-like, so of a calming and balanced me-like person. Me, who is so multifaceted, I become a calmed and balanced, normal, version of myself. It obviously has something to do with the natural endorphin release, but I've been thinking, is it because I've just gotten done with a major, major, counting session of breathing within my mind and body?

But if anything, it calms my always buzzing and anxiety ridden nerves. My body is like an empty cave with emotionally anxious thoughts, constantly swarming within itself because the swarm has no where else to go, since it's trapped. It's my own DNA.

Yet, when I leave the gym. I come to a ready conclusion that, I'm filled. My usual empty self is filled and content with life.

Pretty amazing what some things can do and where thoughts can lead you to and through different thought process avenues.

Anyway, I just needed to put it down. This is incredible though, I haven't written in so long. My inside joy is incandescent. But that's how it happens: all at once, like a sudden deluge that won't stop pouring out; or nothing at all, like a starved mind lacking the right words and the electricity to function.

Well, good night and cheers lovers.

Back At 1

Now that my seasonal job is over, I am right back where I started from. Except hopefully, a little wiser, but definitely a little older.

I don't know if I'll ever be ready enough to throw myself back into a regular routine. But I just want to really focus on being healthy right now. Mentally and physically. My job made me slip back a bit and relapse. And that worries me. It was only for 3 months, but one relapse is all it takes.

My hopes and dreams? They say that if you're not working toward your hopes and dreams, that you're not really living your life. So that turns my perspective around. My hopes and dreams:

To not always feel so trapped inside my own body.
To not feel like I'm close to tears, all the damn time.
To not wake up every day and already be looking forward to bedtime.
To accept all of my flaws and actions and then not always have something to feel guilty about afterwards.
To like who I am and not give a fuck.
To learn to let go instead of cover up.

So I suppose I am living. Rather than what I always thought instead, which was just merely going through the motions of life.

I am living.
I am alive.
I live.

Life confession #1 for 2014

Never get old.

My heart breaks every time.

Every time I think of you.

Every time I miss you, for no reason at all.

Every time I am aware that this will never work.

Every time I am convinced that you aren't  where I am.

Every time I think too much of you.

Every time you're not texting me constantly.

Every time I know you're not good for me.

Every time I want you. All the times.

Every time.

5 Minute Poem

Sometimes, I have to remind myself to breathe.

These permanent scars, I've left on my own sleeves.

Will I ever be free?

Will I never, not plead?

Tumblr

I found this today, and I had to share it, document it. It's utterly beautiful.

"I feel everything. From the bath water that’s slightly too cold, to the pain in that old man’s eyes as he walks through the street and wonders how he came to be so alone. I think such small and intricate thoughts; untouched blades, so dangerously sharp. These thoughts cut the deepest and yet a part of me craves to swim in a river of red. I want to watch myself bleed in the comfort of knowing I’m not alone and nor are the hidden droplets of life that no one else has thought to look for. That’s why shallow people are often so beautifully pristine - they are thinkers of common thoughts: blunt knives that cut no deeper into their smooth skin than the hands that caress their bodies. 

Lonely are the sufferers."

News

I went to the dermatologist yesterday because I've had a mass on my left arm for about a month now.

Turns out it's a benign tumor.

They won't know what it is until they take it out.

I'm getting it cut out this following Monday.

Wtf, universe.

I'm the statistic of all statistics.

I was feeling indifferent and fine until today. In fact I was laughing about it. I'm now sad, but why? I don't know why.

I'm so tired. All I want to do is sleep.