WARNING:

These are the most honest and deepest thoughts that I manifest on a daily basis. They are raw and unpolished. This place is a cave for these ideas to echo in outside of my head. If you don't enjoy being offended, titillated, disgusted, or intrigued, I strongly suggest you pass this hollow by. If, however, you are of sound mind and you care to follow my descent into pure insanity, please do continue onwards.

Sunday, August 21

I don't know where I am right now, but I know its a pretty bad place. Everything feels wrong, like it's built from puzzle pieces that don't fit together. I don't feel especially close to anything. My surroundings feel like they're just magnified from reality, like blurred holograms of what I should be seeing. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm hearing phantom noises or just getting used to all the strange sounds in the area of my new apartment. It's hard for me to focus. I can barley read anything I lay out in front of my face. My eyes just trace the words, from front to back, line by line, and nothing ever gets processed. I keep finding myself staring at the walls and the living room table. There is zero motivation inside of me. To cook, to exercise, to leave my apartment, to get out of bed before 12. I've become a zombie of what I used to be. I look at photos of myself from before and it's not the same face that shows up in the mirror. My hair keeps getting in the way and my face feels and looks dirty all the time. I used to think I was a pretty girl but today, that isn't me. I am void of purpose. The only thing I've done recently is make a dent in the seat cushions of the sofa. I just wait and wait and wait for midnight so I can close my eyes and shut my life off for a while. And the day after, I'll wait and wait and wait for calls, for jobs interviews, please, anything to make me alive again. There must be something wrong with my mind. I have so much but I want so much more. It isn't right to feel this empty when my life is overflowing with goodness. A lot of the time I feel like crying. A lot of the time I don't. My father called today, probably to make sure I'm alive. He forgot to say "I love you" before he said goodbye for the first time ever and for some reason, it made me want to die. I can't really listen to music. What could always cure my aching heart and down-trodden soul before, turns my head away now. It's inconceivable. Something's wrong here and I need to fix it. I remember feeling dead inside before. A long time ago. I thought that what I'm feeling was nowhere close to what it was like then but now I fear, it might be worse.