So I’ve found myself wondering why things tend to be falling apart and you start missing old parts of you. There was a time when nothing from the exterior really mattered as I found it a distraction that shouldn’t bother me.
Then time flew, months turned to years, and I let my guard down. Things happened as they always will happen, whether you want them or not… and I got tired and sick of most things. Let’s say colors weren’t so bright to me anymore.
Bit by bit, I forgot who I am, why I am, where I am. Lost in a land of confusion. I slept and ate less, I stopped writing, reading, I stopped enjoying things. Even a good movie wasn’t satisfying. I even started to drink a lot… The fucked up thing is that I started enjoying creating this persona that I always hated.
I rarely feel at peace… I rarely enjoy the sun. I admire summer but this summer it’s just fucking pointless. So.. what do I have to do?
Feels like I am talking to myself, trapped in my mind, where I dwell in a continuous fluctuation of bad thoughts, but I will publish this anyway. Probably someone with the same problem will feel at ease when reading this, or maybe somewhere in a distant or not-that distant future, I will read this thinking where I was and where I am at that point.
Anyway, what I want to say is that I came to realize that this is not me, this is not what I should do, this is not the right thing.
Change. A few months back was just a future plan and also my number one fear. Now I will do it.
I have to let go of some things and habits and refresh my ritual of existence. No more over-thinking and pursuing impossible goals. No more rushing and ruining good things. No more waiting around for useless stuff. No more flows of negativity. No more time wasted wondering what will happen and when. Right now, these few last weeks were just a line between waking up, waiting, waiting, wondering, doing absolutely nothing creative, wasting time not seeing anything with my eyes open.
I’m done being this one.
I have to reconnect with myself. I have my poetry, writing makes me feel good. I want to make a program of sleeping, at least 8 hours, because this lack of sleep is slowly killing me and much of my unhappiness is due to not sleeping.
I will study more art. I have a thing now for vectors, abstract art, I enjoy colors again. I will learn some new design software, I will start reading whatever I can get my hands on. My mind is filled with rotten junk that shouldn’t be there in the first place.
If I do this maybe I will regain my happiness. Maybe I will end up where I was supposed to be.