Nine inch Nails - Sin

I have not been outside yet today. I feel like as though I am not fully awake, yet i've only had a few hours sleep. My heavy body feels dead, on the verge of becoming a solid weight of flesh, hard like cold concrete.

I almost hate what has become of me. Tired, exhausted and worn to almost nothing. I still seek out all that is beautiful even if it seems I can never have the selfish things.

I feel as though i'm being forced to do everything that is going on in my life right now. I don't want to move anymore. I really don't. I'm scared too, and I can't even explain why i'm scared, I just am.

Fear grows from deep within, in a place I don't think i'll ever find. I want to be alone more than anything, yet i'm fearing it just as much.

I'm torn.

My life is bordering on Love and Hate.

I havn't been myself to the outside world for a long time. I've always lived inside my head. I try to be myself, all that has grown in my head, my heart and my hopes. No one understands. They look at me and think i'm "interesting", but none of the feeling is mutual

Why can't I just hold onto the happiness. I force myself not to think on the future, it changes too much to bother and it leaves feelings of failure. I live for the now, every ounce of my energy is thrown into those things and people around me, and I feel like no one is on the same level, no one allows their selves to swallow all the joys down in a single gulp and just let themselves rave about it.

When i'm in a good mood, why can't they just fucking take it. I hear constant complains that I never smile enough, that things always look like they're bothering me, that I hold everything in, obviously since I live to write and that seems to be my only world. My pen and paper and the sore hand after i've finished my creations.

That world will never be equal to my reality. I want to scream it all out, every frustration for all the holding back so I won't feel like a failure.

Jesse was even part of that creation. Two years before he even knew who I was, I knew I loved him. I also had my dark angel in my head, my character and star of my stories. He has exsisted for almost a decade. When I met Jesse, he was that person I lived to write about through another vision. It blew me away. I loved him and he became that mystery. It's maddening to me, it really is.

My creation and vision is my intuition, like how the medium does her automatic writing. All of my art becomes something significant in my reality, even if it is a much more toned down version. It sometimes doesn't feel fair that I feel so isolated because this is the only way to truely understand life.

I need to take another gulp of these moments and let it effect my life in a good way...I have to live it the best way I can even if I have to work with this strange way of getting things out because even if it tears me back and forth from two different moods, it's my only way to see everything in the end.

I barely make sense.

I want to rip apart my fears with what I do best.