Another Dumb Blog

Brush teeth night and morning

Reshape oil on face night and morning

Establish an exercise routine 

Meditate Tuesday and Thursday and Sunday

See a psych once a fortnight

No meat

No cigarettes 

No phone before midday (social media)

New songs once a week

Read more

Slam poetry - try it once

go to the moth once a month

get laser

save money

move to canada

learn to snowboard

go on a hike

meet a bear

tame said bear

make bear new best friend

Just one more glance at the blank wall while my mind races. Just one more frown. I’ll just tell myself I’m not good enough, but just for a little while longer i swear. 

It’s about to change. I’m on the cusp of changing I swear. Just one more day of eating what I want. Just one more cigarette, I’m stressed and I need it, but I sweat this is it.

It’s a weakness.

And I hate being weak.

Because no matter how many people love me,

You don’t.

That fact alone makes my walls crumbly.

And I don’t understand why I can’t look at anyone else the way I look at you, or how you have the ability to make me feel hollow, and why you always do.

More then anything though, I don’t understand why it is you that I’m tangled in.

You’re not nice.

Drowning without water is truely a thing of wonder, and torture. I feel suffocated in my breath, and the worst part is i’m doing it to myself. I look at a stranger and wonder how we got here. 3 and a half trips around the sun and we could fill a pool with the tears we have shed over that time. It feels like we have been clawing at each others skin forever. I don’t even remember the good times at the moment, I just feel the all to familiar pang of stress bubble up in my throat and choke me once again. I have forgotten what it’s like to bounce off the ideas of my own mind, I have convinced myself into guilt for thought and feeling that before now has come naturally to me. I feel hate and I feel anger, but I’m not sure who it is for anymore. If that is a reflection of my own deeper feelings or not, the knife still cuts and turns and I fear it is making wounds we won’t be able to stitch up.