☼ Find Me, Fix Me

Sigh...

My stomach still hurts no matter how much I eat, and head still hurts even if I take Tylenol or Advil.

Not that they were ever effective...

I can't think straight. I can't remember what we learned the past week.

I'm going to fail the PSAT since my mind wasn't in a great condition to study for it.

I'm going to fail Physics because I can't really go in for help if I haven't even looked at the crap yet.

I'm so screwed up. I can't function correctly.

I have to retype each sentence over and over again since I'm so uncoordinated right now.

Damn.

Sorry, but argh....I can't focus, I can't think.

I feel so miserable and pitiful.

That's what I hate the most.

Feeling so pitiful.

My thoughts are in fragments, and I can't connect things properly.

Can you tell?

I slept for a while.

But now I feel like sleeping more. But there are so many things I still have to do!

Maybe it'll be good if I'm dying.

I was never really attached to this world anyways.

You can take that to mean whatever you want.

I'd have no qualms about leaving.

Just for disappointing everyone. My family, my friends.

God.

Though He would be the one who would let me die.

Maybe it would be for the best.

Everyone will get over it.

All it would take is probably a year or so, tops.

It'll be a little stumble, maybe, then everyone will move on.

I'm tired.

So tired.

And lost.

So lost.

Can you see me trying to give up?

I hate that I want to give up.

But still, it doesn't stop me.

I used to be so determined.

Even as a five year-old child, I wouldn't have cared if my little fingers fell off, as long as I reached my goal.

But now, I've grown accustomed to running. Running away.

Instead of a "fight" response to a challenge, I now take "flight."

And then I grow disappointed because I can't actually fly up into the air, and away from everything.

And now I'm tired.

Tired of running, but still going the opposite direction.

And everything that I'm running away from will catch up to me.

There I go again.

Talking in metaphors.

Ones I may not fully understand. Or maybe understand too well.

I don't know anymore.

Everything's become so ambiguous to me now.

One thing for certain is this:

At this rate, I'm headed for destruction.

But I'm too much of a coward to intentionally do that.

Too afraid of the impact of the fall.

When what is real will come crashing up on me as I land.

BOOM.

Somehow I know how it would feel if my heart stopped beating at that point.

These open spaces scare me...but too claustrophobic to hide myself in small spaces where no one will find me.

I

am

dreaming

yet

I

am

still

awake.

Reality

never

feels

real.

At

the

end,

however,

the

burning,

stinging,

slap

of

reality

has

never

felt

so

real.