Thoroughly Confused

[printrovert]

I shed thoughts like falling leaves. The words inside my head make no sense. They scatter in monumental disarray at the foot of my ribs. It is always autumn inside my brain. The hollows in my chest slowly fill up with words that refused to ripen into sentences. My ribcage is a graveyard of premature thoughts.

28.10.2025

[printrovert]

I realise that I have regret and guilt etched into the fabric of my soul. It is what defines me. I am nothing without it, no one besides it. I realise that I am - I AM - inherently, everything that is wrong with me. That I cannot run away without taking myself with me. And I cannot kill myself to live with myself. I have to live with myself to live with myself.

("what mountain gave me such shame?")

So I burn down everyday to redeem myself of being such a catastrophe. And I wake up every morning from the ashes, only to light myself up again.

[printrovert]

You know you are a colossal waste of space when your family is waiting-with bated breath of course-but just waiting for your next screw up to happen. Living in a home like that - it does something to you. Me? It has stripped me of all sense of dignity and self respect. Now I’m just waiting for my next screw up.

If enough people, mind you, these are people who birthed and brought you up, so if enough people believe you’re a screw up, you start believing it too. When it’s your own family, you know what you believe is true. Eventually, and I believe, inevitably, whatever you are - you end up being a screw up. That whole thing about the whole universe conspiring - yeah that applies here.

If a cage is made up of walls that you grew up in and filled with the people you love, is it still a cage?

27.07.2025

[printrovert]

What is this monstrosity of a feeling that grows restless in me?

A longing, a homesickness for a home that isn't my home. For a place I have no knowledge of. Like a subconscious instinct. Like a GPS tracker that knows you're going in the wrong direction but doesn't know where the destination is.

Makes me wonder, is there a home out there yearning for me as well? Not knowing whom it's yearning for but yearning all the same? Is this feeling mutual? Do you miss me as well?

27.07.2025

[printrovert]

I'm 26 years old today. A quarter of a century has passed me by, and I remain, ever the failure.

[printrovert]

Perhaps if grief didn't look like my mother and remorse didn't look like my father, it would have been easier to breathe.

10.07.2025

[printrovert]

I carry two worlds inside me. Neither can co-exist with the other, and I can't live without either. Inside me the heavens and the earth collide. And I collapse trying to carry the weight of two worlds on my shoulders.

04.07.2025

[printrovert]

There's this kind of loneliness that sits on your back, like a shroud. You carry it everywhere you go. Amidst family and friends. Within crowds and without. Sometimes it engulfs you like a hug. Sometimes it's within you, sitting at the base of your throat or the tips of your finger. Sometimes it holds your hand, sits in your palm. There's this kind of loneliness that is a constant presence. Closer than your heartbeat, lighter than your shadow. So much so that sometimes it's impossible to discern where it ends and you begin. So much so that you can't call it loneliness anymore. More of a companion than company ever is.

[printrovert]

What a mess, people. What a mess it is to be alive!