What have I been doing? Time has said it’s farewell to me. I am no longer holding on. It hurts. I’m letting go of my soul because I don’t know how not to let go. It’s like slipping through my fragile fingers; draining away all my blood along the way and I can’t stop it. Every bit of me is crumbling down. Help me.
If I focus on the happier side of my life, on the positive things that are happening, am I actually trying to ignore the fact that I am a sinner? Am I just trying to run away? What should I do? Smiling feels wrong; being happy feels wrong but they say life is too short to be sad, to live life negatively. Now tell me, what the fuck should I do?
I think all this while, the one thing I’ve been desperately wanting is for someone to ask if I was okay, if I’ve been good. I kind of grew tired of being the one listening. I should drop the act. I’m not okay. I’m totally a mess inside. Every day has been cold and numb and I really need someone to call me now and ask me if life has been good for me.
It’s really hard for me to pretend to be mentally stable. I cut conversations short without realizing. I wanted to tell someone, but I realized that I had no one that I could talk to about this matter. No one would understand. It made me realize how lonely I’ve been for the past months.
I could hear voices from my surrounding when it’s past midnight. Past midnight is the time when my brain stops functioning rationally, when I start to count my flaws over & over again, when my suicidal thinking is at its peak & when I don’t remember who am I before. I just want to hide from people but I’ll get lonely & I hate that I get lonely when I’m not around with people even when they make me feel sick, reckless & unwanted.
I don’t know what I should be doing; or maybe I refuse to know what I should know. It’s troubling me, this uncertain feeling. And I realize that I’m turning into someone hateful. The time too, pass by too fast; making me uncomfortable.
I have never known so much things. Haruki Murakami is really good in tossing around my feelings. Putting that aside; I think I just ruined a beautiful book but it seems that all these years, I have never been satisfied with the way I write in my journals. At the end of the day I usually find my beautiful notebooks torn apart when they barely taste the flavour of living.
Loneliness crept into my soul and your face keeps appearing. Is my name slowly fading from your memories? Do you think of me as much as I do? Do you remember the words I said to you from time to time? Is it too much to ask, for you to call me, after 11 months of missing you?
Tonight I feel very suicidal. I somehow can’t breathe properly. I don’t even know what is on my mind at the moment. Everything seems empty and I’m kinda scared.
Am I too late now? Or did you have someone else in your mind all along? It had only been a few months but I’ve already fallen. My heartbeat responds to your presence. I thought you felt the same. I thought you did.
