I always write from the heart and I always love it, even if it’s cheesy or bitchy or heartbreaking. I still love it. Because it’s true, it came from me; or at least a part of me at that time. Irrational rants and raves, paranoia, manic ramblings, thank-you notes to no-one in particular. Loving and hating and raving and slating anything and everything just because it popped into my head. Even, the gooey lovey stuff that I’m rubbish at. Every scribble was a piece of me captured in a moment.
But right now, I want to write more than anything, but I find I have absolutely nothing to say. My heart just doesn’t care anymore. It’s like all my colours have faded to grey and I’m left in some weird purgatory where I cannot feel a fucking thing. I’m just numb. And I think worse than feeling nothing is the knowing that I should feel something. I lost my job. I should be sad or pissed or relieved or bathing in self pity, or flying into a blind panic, but nothing. That’s right, I have no job, no income, I should be going out of my fucking mind. But nothing.
Black Ops 2 came out. I should be bouncing off the walls! I pre-ordered it months ago, I love Black Ops, it’s so my game it’s unreal and they made another one? OMG! So was I pushing my way to the front of the queue at midnight on Wednesday night? No. I could have been, but instead I was sat at home doing nothing in particular. Okay so maybe I just couldn’t be arsed right, I could always get it in the morning? Well yeah, but I didn’t. I got it Friday afternoon. Did I dash home and refuse to move from my xbox until I had completed the campaign? Nope. I didn’t even try it until the following Tuesday. For like 10 minutes. I tried again Wednesday and nothing. Now don’t get me wrong, it is NOT a shit game and this is in no way the games fault. It’s like all the enthusiasm and joy I would normally get from something as daft as a game have been ripped out and replaced with... you got it, nothing.
After living with extremes of emotion from bouncing of the walls to throwing my toys out of my pram, partying all night to feeling suicidal, feeling nothing is like some strange form of torture. I don’t know what the hell to do with myself. I keep wondering if I’m dead. I keep looking at my arms and wanting to slice them open, just to see if I still bleed. I’m looking at speeding cars, thinking, would it actually hurt if it hit me? Does anyone even still see me or am I just a memory lingering here? But I can’t be dead. I’m pinging elastic bands off my wrists like there’s no tomorrow and I can feel it. But then I get to thinking, what if I’m not actually ‘feeling’ it, what if I’m just remembering how it feels? God knows I’ve done it enough. Then I get to thinking that I’m losing my grip on reality, but if you’re sane enough to question your own sanity, then you can’t be that insane right?
I keep trying to sleep through all the hours of the day just so I don’t have to be numb. I just want to wake up and feel something. Otherwise, what’s the point in waking up at all?
But right now, I want to write more than anything, but I find I have absolutely nothing to say. My heart just doesn’t care anymore. It’s like all my colours have faded to grey and I’m left in some weird purgatory where I cannot feel a fucking thing. I’m just numb. And I think worse than feeling nothing is the knowing that I should feel something. I lost my job. I should be sad or pissed or relieved or bathing in self pity, or flying into a blind panic, but nothing. That’s right, I have no job, no income, I should be going out of my fucking mind. But nothing.
Black Ops 2 came out. I should be bouncing off the walls! I pre-ordered it months ago, I love Black Ops, it’s so my game it’s unreal and they made another one? OMG! So was I pushing my way to the front of the queue at midnight on Wednesday night? No. I could have been, but instead I was sat at home doing nothing in particular. Okay so maybe I just couldn’t be arsed right, I could always get it in the morning? Well yeah, but I didn’t. I got it Friday afternoon. Did I dash home and refuse to move from my xbox until I had completed the campaign? Nope. I didn’t even try it until the following Tuesday. For like 10 minutes. I tried again Wednesday and nothing. Now don’t get me wrong, it is NOT a shit game and this is in no way the games fault. It’s like all the enthusiasm and joy I would normally get from something as daft as a game have been ripped out and replaced with... you got it, nothing.
After living with extremes of emotion from bouncing of the walls to throwing my toys out of my pram, partying all night to feeling suicidal, feeling nothing is like some strange form of torture. I don’t know what the hell to do with myself. I keep wondering if I’m dead. I keep looking at my arms and wanting to slice them open, just to see if I still bleed. I’m looking at speeding cars, thinking, would it actually hurt if it hit me? Does anyone even still see me or am I just a memory lingering here? But I can’t be dead. I’m pinging elastic bands off my wrists like there’s no tomorrow and I can feel it. But then I get to thinking, what if I’m not actually ‘feeling’ it, what if I’m just remembering how it feels? God knows I’ve done it enough. Then I get to thinking that I’m losing my grip on reality, but if you’re sane enough to question your own sanity, then you can’t be that insane right?
I keep trying to sleep through all the hours of the day just so I don’t have to be numb. I just want to wake up and feel something. Otherwise, what’s the point in waking up at all?