And if the snow buries my,
my neighbourhood.
And if my parents are crying
then I'll dig a tunnel
from my window to yours,
yeah a tunnel from my window to yours.
You climb out the chimney
and meet me in the middle,
the middle of the town.
And since there's no one else around,
we let our hair grow long
and forget all we used to know,
then our skin gets thicker
from living out in the snow.
I've figured out why I write as much as I do here. It's because I wanna get out and let it out. There's such a feeling inside of me, such an anger sometimes. And I wanna scream, but I just keep whining about it here instead. Actually, I don't wanna scream at all. Don't know why I wrote that.
And I think there's a specific feeling inside of me when I write. It feels like I'm talking to someone. Who's not here. And maybe nowhere.
That's why I get so disappointed with myself when I hang out with people out in the reality. Confirmation, you totally know what I'm talking about.
Uhm, and then it is more. Sometimes it's relaxing.
And I try to reach out and try to prove things, but for what?
And things have happened lately. Not just in my life. And it all makes me sad. And I miss living with people. I miss my sister, but it's not just that. Last year I had someone who came visiting sometimes. But I put so much effort into it. And I didn't get that much of response. I needed more.
It's sort of a desperation, I know.
I just feel..
I hate writing that. Saying. Whatever.
I FUCKING NEED CONFIRMATION AND I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING.
I'm so so so so so so empty.
I'm so so so so so so nothing.
I'm so so so so so so afraid.
I'm so so so so so so sorry.
And finally; I'm so disappointed.
Sometimes I scream when I'm angry because I think that's what you are supposed to do but it only ends up feeling silly.
SvaraRaderaYeah, writing all alone for no one at all for no reason other than because there's nothing to do really it's snowing is the best. A cup of coffee and contemplating the placement of a comma or how to fix an awkward sounding sentence structure... yes. That's what I do sometimes.
Sorry about how disappointing real life is. I feel the same way.
About real life. When I live the real life, that's when I know it has all gone too far.
SvaraRaderaI don't believe in "real" life. I don't believe that anything's real. You know. And those things which we claim are real, those are death.
Everything I see, everything I feel, everything I know. That is my life. I can't be sure of anything else (still I can't be sure of anything). I'm just living my dream.
And when I don't. Then I live like this.
Jag funderar över vad skillnaden är. När jag känner möjligheten att leva som jag vill, då är jag oftast ensam om det (känns det som, men så är det nog inte). Men varför kan man inte använda sig av det när man umgås med människor? Do you feel that too?
I don't have the courage or knowledge. It's just that.
Ensam har jag mycket personlighet, mycket ideer, mycket allting.
SvaraRaderaBut something about being in the presence of another person changes my behavior, my thoughts... makes me less, makes me worse.
I'm not sure which person I am... together or apart? Or am I always apart, I just force myself to be around other people... and and the real question is: affectation or actuality?
When I was really crazy I kept going on about acting, about how I was always acting and I was never being the real me and that finally I was being real, this maniac was real. I guess if the choice was between insanity and pretend I would choose the latter. But that's just right now.
Me too, and I find it disappointing. I wish I could try to be different. I'm gonna try.
SvaraRaderaYeah, I believe I do pretend as well... But isn't that still a part of me, who I am? Because that's what I want? Is that really to pretend?
I wanna know everything about it.