Not Cat @not-cat - Tumblr Blog

untitled||tired

I hate these unchartable phases which compose the symphony of transition. The fact they makes these become those and those out of these.

When these become those: When I become tired of being tired:

I hate the decay of what I think makes up my first third person self. When the crack under the door is darkened by the shadow from forced and unwelcome memories of experiences. Experiences with sources that, if are before 2014, I can’t cite. Then comes the knock at the door, motivated by the desire to evict me, without notice.

When I hear that hollow echo I take comfort in knowing that I love the thought of comparing everything I know to everything I knew. It’s the only thing I know which will truly comfort me.

I compare everyone I meet to you.

I fall in love with the things I fell in love with but I never fell in love with very much. But each fall wasn’t a descent, it was a settling down comfortably with a warm heart, into a familiar but new place, but somehow each time it still ends with a crash.

I’m struggling to maintain my own fundamental scheme. I don’t have the energy to maintain more than basic low entropy. It’s exhausting but It’s the only thing I keep because it’s only thing that stagnates.

I don’t have to hold it down and it’s the only emotion, that feeling of exhaustion, that is not lighter than air. It’s the only thing that I can do with any amount of certainty, it doesn’t rise through me, it settles between me and the world, it stays, it’s hazy with a perfect lumancencent glow.

I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of traveling and of arriving at being tired. I’m tired of being.

I just want to go where what I know about the beginning is as much as I know about the ending.

I’m already there. But as for my present place I don’t known where.

avant-sad

I’m screaming