Life is boring

i dump my thoughts, emotions and experiences here in writing

[writingaboutboringlife]

8 year old me looked up and started asking questions, ‘’what happened to me? I don't understand why I feel so gross? Was I in the wrong?’’ 10 year old me looked up and started asking questions, ‘’what happened to us? Why do you look so tired?’’ 12 year old me looked up and started asking questions, ‘’did it get better? Do we accept ourselves?’’ 14 year old me met my eyes and only asked one question, ‘’why are we still alive?’’ 16 year old me met my eyes and asked the same as 14 year old me. 18 year old me met me in my eyes ‘’so did it get better? Is that why we’re still alive?’’ 20 year old  me met me in my eyes and only smiled sadly.

[writingaboutboringlife]

I float

Float above the world, ruins and despair.

I float

Float above the war, the tragedies

I float

In a bubble, warm and safe

I float

In a bubble of my own creation

[writingaboutboringlife]

the fish who i once was

The fish i reach for, the fish always fingertips away

The waves who I am now, formed by the rain, the moon, the wind.

The waves who drown me, the waves who I fight.

The waves who I lost to, the fish I will never reach.

I am lost in this sea. 

[writingaboutboringlife]

Always the alien

Always the odd one out

Never the same

Never included

Never a friend

Never a lover

Always the weird one

Always the strange one

Never acting right

Never speaking right

Never moving right

Never looking right

[writingaboutboringlife]

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

you're not in love you like the idea

[writingaboutboringlife]

Colours are dull again, The world quiet yet so much noise Its cold even when holding hot tea The blankets and pillows don't give much comfort A pit where the stomach should be An orchestra where the brain should be A needle for a heart Colours are dull again The world has gone quiet Warmth has left Colours are dull

[writingaboutboringlife]

I lost myself along the path and i cant go back to find her

[writingaboutboringlife]

I mourn the person that stares back in the mirror. The girl who used to be so bright, with lights in her eyes the biggest smile in the room, the biggest dreams     the biggest hope. That girl has long since gone, i wish to know where I want to see her again. I miss that girl. I mourn the person that stares back in the mirror.

The girl with the gray pale skin, the sunken in eyes

the lights long gone from her eyes, her smile still so big yet so empty

The dreams long gone, the hope long gone

still yearning for the past to come back.   All that girl can do is mourn, and wait for the end

[writingaboutboringlife]

‘’10 tips how to get out of survival mode’’

Another blog, another video. Repeat repeat repeat

Maybe i will now know But how do you get out of survival mode when it isn't mental?

How do you get out of survival mode when your own body is trying to kill you? How do i get out of survival mode when its my own body being the suspect

‘’10 tips how to get out of survival mode’’ Repeat repeat repeat I cant escape. 

[writingaboutboringlife]

I hate how i feel I hate the dirt, the grime I hate how i feel As i stare at the shower I can't get in There is a barrier between me and the shower A barrier between me and clean I’m not clean I will never be clean I yearn to feel clean

[writingaboutboringlife]

The tired eyes stare back at me, the redness surrounding time as if they just have cried. A too pale face without a natural blush. Lips slightly chewed and a little too dry, a nose which only the tip is red. A face that once was so beloved now behated. A face that once shown a beautiful smile now only showing a frown. A face that once looked so healthy now sickly. I close my eyes trying to remove the image in the mirror, but when I open them the same sickly face looks back at me. I force a smile, it looks wrong, sick. I close my eyes again.

[writingaboutboringlife]

Are we still human when all there is left is only our conscience? Are we still human when all there is left is flesh and bones? Are we human because we feel? Are we human because our hearts keep beating? Are we human because we think? Are we human because we love and dream? Or are we human because we cry and scream? Is it our pain that makes us human? Is it our joy that makes us human? Is it both our pain and joy that makes us human? Or is it our flesh, our bones, our heart that beats that makes us human?

What does it mean to be human?What is human?

What is humanity?

[writingaboutboringlife]

Red eyes, grey skies Puffy lips, big dark clouds Runny nose, winds blowing through trees Tears wetting cheeks, raindrops wetting nature Soft trembles, soft breeze Big eyes, a sun hidden Red lips from biting, dew drops on plants Shuddering breaths, the cold air A frown, heavy winds Downturned lips, heavy rain Arguments dominating every sound, loud thunder clashing in the sky Balled fists, rain turning into hail Smile lines near the eyes, flowers sprouting Laughter filling the air, insects buzzing around happily

[writingaboutboringlife]

I want to talk to you about it, but it didn’t happen. I want to talk to you about it, but it wasn’t that bad. I want to talk to you about it, but I remember it wrong. I want to talk to you about it, but you only acted that way because I was hard to deal with.

[writingaboutboringlife]

A brain filled with hypocrisy

Judging others for what you do

A gut filled with guilt, a heart filled with shame

Yet there is no change

Only judgement for others

While never changing yourself

[writingaboutboringlife]

A childhood full of laughter, of smiles, of running around messing with your dad. Cooking with mom. A childhood full of laughter, full of play, full of bullying your sister until you get told off. 

A childhood full of crying, full of yelling. Full off being blamed for the hardships your parents are facing. A childhood full of screaming, screaming directed at you, why can't you behave better? Act better?

A childhood full of laughter, going to the zoo, running around pointing at your favourite animals. A childhood full of laughter, going to the amusement park, getting cotton candy. Trying to get your mom to join in to go on a ride.

A childhood full of pain, fear, what did I even do wrong now? A childhood full of confusion, why can’t I act better? Why can’t my parents love me?

[writingaboutboringlife]

Anything to just drown out feelings, anything for that dopamine hit. Anything just to feel alright even for a short amount of time. Add to card, buy. Who cares if we can’t afford  rent? It feels good at the moment. Add to card, buy. Add to card, buy. Add to card, buy.

Because why care if all you ever did is think you will die the next day?

A toxic pattern that repeats and repeats and repeats. Just for a little dopamine.

Add to card, buy. The shame that follows can be ignored right? Add to card, buy, shame. Why is it so hard to stop? I want to stop. Add to card, buy, shame. Repeat, repeat, repeat.