Friday 21 February 2014

I hate this feeling. The world becomes like a prison. Nothing feels good enough. Nothing can please me. Nothing cheers me. I want to sleep or get cuddles that never end. The world feels empty. what is there anywhere for me? Objects but nothing of real importance. People are the only true importance
and people make me hurt. It's people who've made me hurt.

I jump on the bus in a half hearted attempt to feel anything other than  lost, than low. My bank account reads how I feel: Zero. Trees are bare and brown. The weather is cold,harsh and unforgiving. Like life.

Last night I was in the arms of someone gorgeous and nothing else mattered (as I've seen then and before) Wars seemed to cease. The glass was neither half empty nor half full. It had been filled with something else.

There's something safe in kisses, in intimacy in bed with someone, in speaking under covers ,in a stroked face, in the gentle touch and then like it was a dream-and it felt like it- it was gone. as always happens.Nothing reminds me more of the fleeting nature of love and life. No one ever tells you how to deal with 'post-cuddling blues'. That's my name for it. Because there is no name for it.

Maybe I'm defective in my inability to deal with loss. I'm bad at being happy. I just keep myself down. I'm skilled in sadness. Travelling only changes the scenery of that.

I was told I talk too much and it's true. I do ....and then I don't do......

It's always easier to write than to live.

It's much easier to approach things thinking don't trust anyone.


I stay out late into the night go home on the night bus, waiting at the bus stop being passed by students and loved up couples, pals getting kebabs . Some people kiss romantically in the street in my view and it comes back to me how alone I feel in the world. affection, why do you pass by or barely glance at me in the street.  I could do with being in someone's arms right now. Or someone's company.