I like to run into the thunderstorms and climb tall trees. 

I’ve lost it again. Bring it back. Come back. I had it all figured out just days ago.

Is this my new problem now? Life’s so empty without the drama I got so used to so I run right into it knowing it’s going to fuck me up massively when I get thrown into a ditch. I’m like that person that gets into fights cause the pain makes me feel alive now. 

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An isolated speck. I gave so much I tried to connect I thought I would be a part of something but it repels me now so much that I can never belong

I visit home after home knocking on doors asking for shelter when it rains and leaving the next day back alone on the road and my shell grows thicker than it can ever be. Some doors I can’t even fit through now others leave me with scratches and bruises but I have to try right. I need shelter when it rains food to get me through those days it’s getting hard the shell and the scars and bruises scare them now. The open arms are growing rare.

flitty flake

I’ve never been more aware of the storm inside. But I have to go through this. I flit around because standing still is poison to me. The second I stand still I cling hard and take root and it’s a whole fucking excavation to get me out. I get comfortable too fast, too easily. I buy the same foods. I wear the same colours. Go to the same places.

I want stability, I crave a home, a nest. Familiarity and safety and calm. But the other side of me will only be happy if I see more and be more. And grow in ways I couldn’t have without venturing out from under the ground so I can see the sky and the stars so high up I’ll never reach but I have to try. It unsettles me so terribly not seeing an end to this climb but I chose this.

There’s always the easy option. The mediocre option. You’ve surpassed it already, can’t you see? Stop beating yourself up. This climb is your adventure. The stability you crave will come, in 5 years. 10 years. 20 maybe. You could have had it before but how the fuck will you climb if you insist on keeping your feet firmly planted on the ground. Don’t be silly girl. You know this. It will come someday but now you keep climbing those walls and trees and ladders. Flit, jump. Take a breather if you must but not for too long, don’t take root before you’re ready. You never were. You’re still growing.

I still dream of the fairytale ending they told us all as children but I know it’s not real. There is no happily ever after. It’s a false stability I dream of. The story doesn’t end, it’s an adventure, a struggle, a fight. I know I have the strength to fight in me. I know I’m capable of so much more. But the fantasies still live. The fantasies call at me when I grow tired. They grab at my feet the moment I stop climbing. The moment I rest.

That fairytale stability is my quicksand. It sucks me in. I forget about the ladder, the climb. I don’t grow. I just grow content staying put. I’m not ready to stop growing. So I have to deny myself that fairytale of a put-together life, with predictability and roots and ties calling me pulling me into the quicksand of the past and you know what I was holding myself back. I wanted more I wanted better I needed more. I lied to myself. I succumbed to the fairytale. The quicksand took me in but I’m out now so please girl don’t stop you did good. You’re doing good. Keep climbing. Go slow if you must, but don’t you dare give up.

You’ll outgrow that fairytale someday soon. That’s the day standing still stops being your poison. The day you’re done building your own stability you’ll have something so much better than this quicksand that you’ll never succumb again.

When you have nothing going for you how do you not give up on everything. 

I am nothing, no one. A complete liability. Alone in so many ways. Mediocre at best. I can’t stand out for the life of me. I can’t be special. What do you when all your life you dream of sprinting and you realise you’re barely crawling.

What am I besides flesh and bones honestly. I’ll do nothing, leave no mark, remain insignificant as ever.

I can imagine the disdain you must have for me. The relief you must feel that I’m not your responsibility now. I wish it didn’t scar this deep. I thought I’d be whole by now. I thought I’d have stopped drinking myself into a little shithole of regret by now. 

I’ve no voice. Or everyone’s deaf to it anyway. 

I want to drown in my tears choke on my fears just let go.

Your friends and family, they’ll pay. That’s what cowards do, they say. It’s true though.

Well adjusted people with stable lives throw me off massively like wow how is everything okay for you everything’s never okay that’s not a thing

I feel like death

this is terrible.

Find the you you’re most comfortable with.

If the light is as blinding as the dark maybe you need the shade. Maybe you’re meant to lurk in the shadows, maybe you thrive in dim flickering light. Maybe you’re the middle ground. Not everyone can be you. Be you.

 

 

It’s time to just do me.

Whatever the fuck that means, not worrying what that means for anyone else.

Be heard.

‘I didn’t say there won’t be consequences’ says lecturer tbh right now everything is shit anyway so bring it on all the consequences can just join in the shit parade TRALALALALA

I’m not a special little snowflake ugh grow up you 23 year old child there’s nothing special about you you’re not smarter than anyone else just cause you pull stuff off at the last minute anyone could if they wanted to it’s just no one actually wants to cause you know what happens when you do that? You go fucking insane. INSANE. LOOK AT YOU. YOU’RE NOT EVEN FUNCTIONING ANYMORE.

Also. Being all alone sucks balls like I get it I love alone time but I’m at the point where I’m well past recharged I’m just going faulty from overcharging and honestly this tiny as fuck shoebox room is NOT fucking helping. But then I’m also so bad at being close to people that really there’s no point at pushing this argument cause there’s no pleasing me here. And I don’t know what’s going wrong with my body either I wake up with no feeling in my hands TOO OFTEN and something is up with my middle finger it never seems to fully recover from falling asleep on me also why am I getting rashes again I THOUGHT THAT STOPPED WHEN I WAS 7 OR SOMETHING UGH.

It’s just so stupid cause I try to tell myself that I need to be disciplined and get through the hard work and tough times but everything sucks so much all the time that I want to just be happy instead and my instant gratification monkey wins and I do stupid things like watch bloopers and tv shows and sleep when I have shit due the fucking next day cause sleeping is feeling nothing and feeling nothing is better than a constant state of stress and anxiety over my future career/social life/happiness or potential lack thereof and the strong and severe feelings of inadequacy that uni brings with it

Oh my god what do I do with myself this is getting pathetic.

Why did I place all of my self worth on my grades and being perceived as smart really I done fucked myself up didn’t I. WHAT DO I PUT MY SELF WORTH ON NOW my grades are mediocre at best. Looks don’t last, ,my personality? THE FUCK KIND OF PERSONALITY DO I HAVE NO ONE EVEN CARES IN THE REAL WORLD. Nice people don’t win. Big, loud, talkative people win and I’m small and quiet and get talked over way too much so I lose.

DO WE REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED THE ONE TIME I GOT A CREDIT IN UNDERGRAD GUYS? I PASSED OUT AT PRE’S BEFORE ZOUKOUT AND PUKED ALL OVER MYSELF AND MISSED THE WHOLE DAMN THING I’M A FUCKING JOKE KILL ME NOW WILL YA.

I damn well knew I deserved that C too.

Thank god for that though or I don’t even know what I’d have done to myself with last semester’s grades if I didn’t already accept my mediocrity to some degree. Tbh tho I always see the shit grades coming but a ridiculous part of me just somehow thinks I’m still a genius of sorts and I’ll be able to pull it off and then I end up getting disappointed even though I already knew I done fucked up right away.