Posted by Anonymous on 2019/10/05 under Life I am losing myself in characters of books, finding people i can identify with. Jumping into their shoes and neglecting my own. Feeling their pains and anguish, diving right into the misery of it all. Identifying with strangers looking for life in theirs because i`m in denial about the lack of mine. Life is slow when nothing ever happens. Another dull day of nothing extraordinary. I can do things to take myself away to somewhere else, someone else some other time. Making up stories in my head reeling them out to others for fun. Lost in a world of fantasy. I lie often, i shouldn't. I should be careful who i tell my lies, ones i like the most i cant lie to. Strangers are difficult they don`t deserve my lies. I`m wishing my lies away. I close my eyes and dream of a truckle of mature cheddar cheese. Smells so pungent. Its creamy, it flops apart in my hand. Its the greatest thing you could ever taste. Its after taste is even better, it lingers, pulls you in, makes you crave more, like a beautiful woman reaching up to you in bed. Today i feel mighty tired but keeping my eyelids open to read.
Tv just seems as dead as a rusty door nail that`s been neglected in a derelict barn. A nail so rusted even the local ravenous rat avoids it. Reading is sublime its majestic. Tv and the online world just seems hollow. Compared to a book that slowly etches its way into your mind. It takes a while to read a book, so it sinks in slower and deeper. Tv makes me feel nothing, maybe i am getting to an age where it don`t affect me like it used too? Every so often i come back to this hollowness this emptiness this longing for something more. For excitement and thrills, i am wound tight beat down like a screw. Rigid and continuous labourious duties. Tasks that become me become my future self. Chores that i should be grateful and joyful about. I should just be f***ing happy and proud to be alive right. I exist. I try to go backwards in my mind, i hardly ever go forwards or become an optimist. Sometimes though, *and now i`m gonna be all pretentious*,i simple sit in my mind and just let the madness wash over me. After a few hours it disappears, and i am sitting in total silence and peace. It can help me sleep. This is work, real work to sit there absolutely still like a statue and just be. A retreat into yourself. It takes great effort. Instead of looking out its looking in. You may not enjoy what you find, its self therapy, its unraveling all the s*** and observing it. You cannot get mixed up in it all, if you become engaged in every story in your mind you will go insane. You gotta let it go. Those stories are not you. Ok now back to reality, pretentious crap over. I am over thinking, its simple really. I`m just lonely and too proud to admit it.