psyche7

i need a break from you.

i'm tired of feeling guilty and utterly inadequate when i get upset with you.

i'm tired of how my life seems to revolve around yours.

i need to start doing the things i need to do instead of worrying about yours.

i'm running away from you.

(and i'm so sick of running to you in times like this.)

fuck school.

fuck everyone.

the bubble has burst, just as i have expected.

now i'm left with the constant desire to simply curl up in bed and sleep infinitely.

the work is piling up and i am too confused and distracted to start clearing them.

i just want to sleep really but the rashes are preventing me from doing so.

the feeling of displacement stems from a profound lack of permanence and the acquaintance with change.

a span of 5 months away from all that is familiar and safe creates a change that springs from within. subtle and undetectable, it lingers mostly in moments where time comes to a seeming halt and when one is not occupied with the chores of the banal.

meaning is largely relational and just as how a word is given meaning in relation to its position in the larger body of text, we and our experiences are given significance in relation to our location in different environments and different spaces of time.

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independence can be a bad thing if it springs forth the false belief of invincibility, of the redundancy of ties and the impermanence of relationships.

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the screen of the laptop is cracked and bleeding. and

i find myself strangely bleeding into nothingness.

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i'm torn between going back earlier and staying until the 10th of january.

last night's loneliness was disquieting and horrific as i laid in bed, tossing, undying and acutely aware of the immediacy of my loneliness.

it was then that i decided that i will fly back.

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so i am in LA now feeling strange, alone and confused in a hotel room with two other people.

i went down alone to the outside of the hotel to smoke because i knew i couldn't hold back the tears.

the cold impersonal bitting wind against the surging of emotions in me.

then i thought of going back again, not for you but for me.

i need to be shut off from the rest of the world now

so there is nothing pretty to offer but an unadultered attempt to negotiate through my emotions.

the body is temporal and worldly.

yet the body is what our very souls depend on to manifest itself, to establish that connection with other beings.

could you say the body is a tool? one that ages with use and abuse?

or is the body given greater meaning and significance through the process of manifesting the inner souls of ours?

is the body sacred? are our outward actions more important than the very essence of our souls?

jaded, the sinews that envelops your bones fail to reject. just as you lay with open arms waiting for the world to crumble, you laid helpless with defeat.

perhaps i have been resigned a long time ago.

everyone's making preparations for their trips after finals but all i'm thinking about is how i can possibly go back home earlier.

i've paid for air tickets to LA and from Vegas to NYC and back to Oakland. i've paid for my hotel stay in LA too. and i'm wondering if i can just go back home after my trip to LA.

i just want to go back and spend new year's back home.

while having a cigarette outside of the grocery store in the afternoon, i was observing the vastness of the town. how far apart every building is from each other and how different that is in comparison to the landscape back home.

and i experienced a sudden jolt of panic and displacement.

i think i'm not going to be happy no matter where i am. i'll miss being here once i'm back home and realize home isn't as great as the absence of it is making it to be.

i miss home.

and i want to cry so bad.

i'm ready to leave but i can't.

when i find myself running to you, it's a sign that things are falling apart.

i'm withdrawing myself from people around me and conversations are growing increasingly cumbersome. i wonder if people noticed the change, the effort taken to smile and look them in the eye while talking.

i'm exhausted and defeated and that much easier to snap.

once again the indecipherable worries and melancholy threatens to overwhelm.

as much as i hate to concede, i am very much alone here.

yes i am weak.

hey there forsaken one,

i haven't forgotten about you even though it may appear to be the case. thoughts meander to you once in a while, especially during quiet times like this. it is easy to not remember the details, the words that i have written over time - morphed into an inchoate mass.

yes i come running to you when things appear to be falling apart. i hid today from the rest of the world in a different room that serves the same function.

and the same old fears - of failures, of falling apart at the seams resurface once in a while, without so much as a warning grow to be especially profound once every year during my birthday.

so yes i am confused, stressed out and incredibly tired. and it's the same old same old words again -

i have a major paper tomorrow.

and sometimes i wonder why don't people ever stop to listen.