I'm cycling around the edges of my emotions that are just about to tear apart. It is a boundary I'm really afraid to trespass, with that dreaded fear of knowing what might happen if I actually do it. And then there are the other people that surround you, the other people who know what they're doing, the other people who aren't afraid of doing it.
It doesn't really matter, anyway.
It's hard being straightforward when you're just so used to toying around with such ambiguity and vague lines. I feel as if that as time goes by, I grow increasingly thoughtful of everything, I question every movement that catches my eye. Yet the irony of it all? I shut my mouth at everything I see. I no longer question physically. A plethora of thoughts fill my mind - why? how come? why not? what's your problem? so what? - but somehow or another, I don't seem too enthusiastic even upon discovering the answer to a problem. Now why does that not bother me?
I woke up late today. As much as I hated myself for breaking that usual promise of completing my prep, I felt refreshed. I guess the only place of comfort, other than a soothing prayer, is the bed on which I lay my head upon, on which I close my eyes and distance myself from the real world that is equally asleep. That is when I know I have nothing to be afraid of, because no one else will be working, and none of them will be interested seeing someone so tenderly asleep.
I have more than this to type, but it seems that the more I do, the less I feel to break this feeling off. Maybe next time. Maybe tonight, when I crawl into bed, before I say my daily prayer, before the world becomes solely awake.
It doesn't really matter, anyway.
It's hard being straightforward when you're just so used to toying around with such ambiguity and vague lines. I feel as if that as time goes by, I grow increasingly thoughtful of everything, I question every movement that catches my eye. Yet the irony of it all? I shut my mouth at everything I see. I no longer question physically. A plethora of thoughts fill my mind - why? how come? why not? what's your problem? so what? - but somehow or another, I don't seem too enthusiastic even upon discovering the answer to a problem. Now why does that not bother me?
I woke up late today. As much as I hated myself for breaking that usual promise of completing my prep, I felt refreshed. I guess the only place of comfort, other than a soothing prayer, is the bed on which I lay my head upon, on which I close my eyes and distance myself from the real world that is equally asleep. That is when I know I have nothing to be afraid of, because no one else will be working, and none of them will be interested seeing someone so tenderly asleep.
I have more than this to type, but it seems that the more I do, the less I feel to break this feeling off. Maybe next time. Maybe tonight, when I crawl into bed, before I say my daily prayer, before the world becomes solely awake.
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