I am sitting on my bed, back against the wall and legs straightened across. I am typing this on my laptop which is sat on my lap. The charger cord kinda tangled with my feet. When I look up from the screen and around the room. It feels strange as everything is scattered around and out of it’s place. This is not like me. I stare at the wall on the right and the faces in the pictures pinned on it stare back. Smiling. I am disgusted and I don’t have any excuses for feeling that way. The clock above the pictures telling me to go. Get out. Do something productive. But I never listen to it. Instead I put some music on and watch the day pass by as my room gets darker, indicating that it’s night again. The light coming from the window with curtains drawn is not the sunlight anymore but the street light which fails to be as bright.
This is the daily routine now.
Sometimes I wake up and I feel like I am on the top of the world. But I stay in because I am scared that my happy little bubble won’t last a step outside this comfort zone of mine. I am not brave enough. I stay locked in so that I can protect the little content feeling I get once in a while. I long and yearn for it everyday. And when it comes to me I want it to last forever. Knowing that forever is impossible.
Sometimes I wake up and I feel miserable. I feel like something is stabbing away at my heart and that thing is very sharp. Sharp enough to kill me.
P.S I wrote this months ago. Maybe 2 months. Never got to finish. I tried to complete it but I can’t. Sorry. The picture is irrelevant to what I was writing. I just didn’t want to post without a picture although it’s not very artistic! See you.