Comments to [redacted]
I always feel that there is something more I could say, some further mutual disclosure, some advice, some question I could ask, some something that could just suddenly magically make things different, because I know where you come from, or I know something just off of where you come from.
But what I guess are real words, not some fluffy thing talking about how I can't put my real words down, they just don't translate well into text or vocalizations.
This is sort of a stream of conscious, I suppose.
I feel like there are other things I could do to help, something that I could do to articulate more. But I don't know what those things are.
My words always sound so incredibly awkward when I write them, and I hate that I don't think people understand what I try to tell them because of it. When I try to speak them, though, it's worse. That's why I don't talk to people.
There's this feeling that everything is sort of unfinished when I do anything. It doesn't matter if I'm talking to you, or [redacted], or [redacted].
Schoolwork, artwork, heart-to-heart's, they all seem disjointed to me.
Forgive me, for I am awkward.
You've probably been told this, maybe by me, but when you go to someone for help, to be listened to, to try and fix things, the first thing you need to make sure you do is have faith that the help WILL do something. And I feel pompous saying that, for some reason.
I've seen people who say they're trying to change, trying to make things better for themselves.
But then when I watch them, I see what they're like. I see that they have gotten so used to wallowing in regret that they aren't comfortable elsewhere. They only know depression and sadness, and they don't want to get away from it, no matter what they say.
I'm not saying that's you.
I'm saying that I've seen it.
May possibly live it myself.
But I don't even know.
I do this thing where I just completely remove myself from everything. I take a break from life. I do something else. It's usually go for a walk. And I walk in my own little world and listen to music to block people out, or if I'm in the woods and nature, I just listen to everything around me. And I walk like I'm a photographer, and I need to take a picture and examine everything. Sunlight, leaves, birds, clouds, the sky. I try and think about the feeling of wind, the heat of the sun. Think of the external, not the internal. Find beauty. It helps, it recenters me. Helps me find me when I'm lost in my mind.
And that's when I go for a walk. Because I just need to get rid of everything in my head, because I know reasonably that it shouldn't be there, that I can be sad, but I shouldn't stay there. It all needs to go somehow. So just clear it out. A nice spring cleaning.
If things were easy what questions would you ask of whom to get closure? What would you rant and scream at someone to fix things? Do you think you would throw something at someone, hit someone in anger, for retribution?
What I mean is that when I need to explain a feeling, explain to someone what is wrong with me, I hold it in until it explodes into some giant word vomit rant. And once I let it out, it's raw and there, but I can sort it out and fix it, slowly but surely.
However, and I theorize, using our artistic differences as a basis, that you don't articulate. You express through something more visual, or more emotional, maybe. You need something to SHOW what you think, what you feel, before you can actually get to the root of what is wrong.
Having hope that gets crushed by life is a terrible feeling, but having no hope at all would seem to be the worse outlook, wouldn't it?
