musings of an owley eagle ©sami

I love self-deprecating humor...I pull it off but I get hurt.

I will never be 100% over my depression. But I will get by, surely and slowly.

You know you are sad when you cannot even listen to music.

You don't get to remove your fears when you leave. They are the ridiculous, overwhelming nostalgia that ceaselessly follows you everywhere.

What am I doing here? I am so numb and immune to everything around me.

Nothing has really changed, but I feel calmer and more optimistic than I've felt in a while.

Growing up, whenever we laughed loudly and heartily, someone always told us that the very act was bad luck because laughing too much meant sadness would follow very soon. So I stopped laughing that way. I started to smile or chuckle or grin until I completely forgot how to laugh so hard it made your breath stop. Because the moment I felt the tingling sensation in my stomach, I also felt it inevitable that everything good would quickly fade away.

I’ve exhausted my energy to the point where nothing is left. The barrel winks at me with the arrogance omnipresent in those who’d always been waiting to see my downfall.

I ran away with my demons when I left for home. Now, I am coming back and they feel stronger than ever.

You know what. I barely know how to feel okay anymore. Last thing I will feel anything about is your condescending concern.

Is it my face that makes you unbearably and disgustingly rude when you talk to me? Or my posture? Or my body? What is it? Tell me.

It's funny how things fall neatly into place when you don't give a single fuck.

At this rate, I'd be shunning everything around me to the point where it'd just get so much worse - I'd one day not be able to breathe normally. It'd hurt to gulp air when it feels so stale and damp. Even then, I'd have to somehow get up, rub my eyes and pretend it's fine. I'd have to smile and leave while my apartment will remain the haunt of my crumbliness and shadows.

They said 'be yourself' but the first thing you saw was someone acting so cocky that everybody cringed at his words and smirked to themselves. You ended up shutting your mouth straightaway. You know you won't ever be as obnoxious as that guy, but hell, what if, what if, what if you just are?

I crave perfection to the point where I don't want to settle for anything below it.

I am not looking forward to anything at college anymore. I used to desperately hope at the beginning of each semester, I would find a group of friends, whom I can really connect with and we'd have tonnes of fun together. We'd study in quaint little cafes, go to bookstores and on the weekends, hit the town, theaters and the city beyond. I wanted to attend all these cultural events that you can only ever enjoy in colleges. And all those monologues about bodies, sexuality, social privilege, diversity, peace! I thought about being in love and doing a bunch of other things like learning how to drive, being part of a political rally, having all these cool, intellectual discussions that will blow one's mind so it gets hungry for more and baking all night for multiple charities. Except that's glamorous. I know I'm going to be stuck in a center for 20 hours all week, trying to finish my homework and make ends meet and studying for exams all throughout the weekend. And I don't have the close group of friends to hang around with, not at all. That's what makes this whole thing so fucking unbearable. So when I am tired, it's just going to be me lying on my stomach with a rotten book. Or soaked with my clothes on in the wet bathtub, shivering till it's another day, biding my time for the nightmare to emerge fully and drag me down the well again. Just as it always has.