cheektocheek

I can't change the past, but I'll do it right next time.

A steady job, a warm bed at night, three meals a day, some friends to spend time with.  A sane person would be content.  A sane person would be counting her blessings. I've got my eyes on the sky, across the ocean, in your room, and back to the place where I first met you.  Focused forwards and backward--while in the present, I am living a haphazard, exhausted existence.  My body suffers.  Beyond basic physical needs, I lack so much. I want answers.  I want to know why you went away.  I want to know why things must be denied of me.  I want to know when I'm going to be able to feel like myself again.  When again will I create something that

Letting it all pass me by.  Roll off my back.  Slip through my fingers.  Trying not to let the end of the school year be the end of my creative flow.  Trying not to let loneliness rear its head into my daily outlook. Creations are product of emotions, yes? Well what if these emotions are something you wish to suppress or change? I do not wish to feel sadness. I do not wish to care about people that are unreachable-- physically, emotionally, and creatively. I do not wish to be an island. You are what you are and feel what you feel-- you should embrace it and ride it out. But it's always easier to ask the questions than to live out the a