So it's basically been almost a month since I last updated. How retarded.
I'm not really sure what to say when I'm feeling like this. When I'm feeling anything, really. I used to be really good at expressing my emotions through written words. I used to write poetry like crazy, not to mention journal entries and various rants and ramblings. But now, I just don't anymore and I'm not sure why. I'm constantly thinking, constantly feeling, but somehow I never think or feel in words. The translator is broken, or maybe things are just too complex now. No, that's not it either. Emotions are always fundamentally the same. There are varying degrees and strengths, and of course the situation always changes so it never seems to feel the same. But really, if you feel scared of something, it's fundamentally the same as the first time you ever felt fear.
Maybe that's not always true.
So, since I can't ever really express things, I listen to songs instead. There's a certain art to expressing your own feelings through songs you hear, of listening a song and interpreting what you think it means compared to how you feel, and recognizing how the way you feel influences your version of the song. What a song means to you isn't necessarily what it meant to the writer or another listener. I don't know, I think I never make any sense to anyone but myself.
The way this song speaks to me describes things perfectly. The fear, the confusion, wanting to let go but being so utterly trapped in a certain mindset that you can't let yourself be happy. It's what I see happening, and I know there's
something I could do, but I have no idea what or how or when. All those one-worded questions that float around in the vast expanse between what makes sense and what actually is seem to only have one answer... and I can't find it. I'm the Tuatha'an, always searching for The Song, a song that probably never was and might never be. But they keep searching, over thousands of years. Maybe they won't ever find it. Maybe I won't ever find it. Maybe that's okay.
It's a crime you let it happen to me
Nevermind, I let it happen to you
Out of mind, forget it there's nothing to lose
But my mind and all the things I wanted
Everytime I get it I throw it away
It's a sign, I get it, I wanna stay
By the time I lose it I'm not afraid
I'm alive but I can surely fake it
How can I believe when this cloud hangs over me
You're the part of me that I don't wanna see
Forget it
There's a place I see you follow me
Just a taste of all that might come to be
I'm alone but holding breath you can breathe
To question every answer counted
Just fade away
Please let me stay
Caught in your way
Forget it
It's a crime you let it happen to me
Out of mind, I love it, easy to please
Nevermind, forget it, just memory
On a page inside a spiral notebook
Just fade away
Please let me stay
Caught in your way
I can live forever here
Forget it
How can I believe when this cloud hangs over me
You're a part of me that I don't wanna seeI can live forever here..
The fear, the confusion, wanting to let go but being so utterly trapped in a certain mindset that you can't let yourself be happy. Every time you get it, you throw it away. You let it slip away because you're scared. Once you finally decide to let go, once you're finally ready, you've already lost the chance. You see me, you know me, you feel for me, and worst of all, you know I see you, know you, and feel for you. You know I understand you, and that scares the pants off you. You put on the charade of narcissism, but what you really want is for someone to love you, yet you're terrified of letting yourself feel that way again. There's a place you saw me follow, a place inside your head where you thought no one could understand. Just a taste of what could be, that's all you let yourself have before wrapping yourself back in your cocoon, before sending your emotions off for hibernation again. You're out of breath, but I've got plenty to spare. You ran backwards, trying to block it off, refusing to truly feel for someone again because your internal failsafe warned of possible danger. So you shrug it off as if it didn't matter to you and you write in your journal another memory of another girl. What did you write about me, I wonder? Or have you written it yet at all?
I want to stay there, caught in your way forever. Caught in the way of your retreat. You haven't fully retreated from me yet, you're still attatched. You're happy around me, whether you admit it to yourself or not. Sometimes your mask slips off and you show the sincerity you try to cover up with bravado and sarcasm. What exactly is keeping you around, and what exactly is keeping you away?
You can't live there forever. Someone will pull you out of your self-prolonged pain, spin you around until you're raw but clean and you can start breathing again. I don't know when, where, who, or how, but it will happen, and you will love it and remember how to be happy.
Eat that.
