I am good with words. The problem is I don't know if I believe it. I think it is more I write as if I am speaking to someone, sharing my thoughts with them. A lesson, my worries, really anything. I get so weighted with thoughts and worries I find I will suffocate if I don't share them somewhere, somehow. I free myself by putting my thoughts on paper. A sense of freedom.
Life as been rather trying as of late. I have considered throwing in the towel and running home to the comforts of my parents' house. Problem with that is I am too stubborn to give in just yet. Crushing on someone that isn't crushing back. Worrying about if my check with cover rent. Penny pinching til the next paycheck. Going out and partying when it does. Then begin the cycle all over again. Not really sure who I am gunna be at the end of the next month. Wondering what changes might be brought out in myself and if I'll actually like them.
I have begun to accept my heart is always worn on my sleeve. That even when I wanna hide it I can't, my emotions are just too bright and my face too readable. I have lost the bit of protection I had of my emotions when I moved. I can no longer afford my numbing medication.
Well, I don't know what else to say. Feeling kind of stuck inside myself and sad. I'm on the down slope of life, looking forward to the next rise.
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