Out of Touch

03

jan 08, 2021—
journal entry

Alright yeah, I'm back. You better be getting used to me planting myself here every now and then. I get massive verbal diarrhea and when something pops into my mind or I'm stressed as hell, I need to let it out. I'm sure my therapist from the 7th grade would be so proud of me right now eh?

"I'm so happy you're writing your emotions! Now how does that make you feel? Would you like to expand on that a little more?"

Fuck that bitch. Spitting out random words she claims are affirmations and makes me rethink all my mental complications.

"Did you actively work on everything we discussed?"

Ah! You mean how I continue to isolate myself in situations that I should be more active in?

Um, sure.

I'm down bad in this cycle of loneliness.

Another fun fact, I'm an ambivert. By textbook definition that means that I'm a "person whose personality has a balance of extrovert and introvert features."

You can look at it as you being shy or you being outgoing. But for me.. it's more than that.

Of course it's more than that. If it wasn't I wouldn't be writing in this stupid thing now would I?

Anyway.

There are moments where I want to hide away in the little hole I call my thoughts. With absolutely no audience, no one to butt in and pick at my brain. Interrogating me on why my thinking process is the way it is and why this hole is a place of immediate comfort, or immediate dissociation.

I think it depends how you look at it. Phrases such as "falling into a void" or "I'm in a hole", all have negative connotations. Automatically assuming that you're trapped in a suffocating location with no surroundings. That all you can feel is your own warmth swirling around and mixing with the sweet scent of your demons.

They're attracted to fear. They're attracted to your sudden urge to convulse when put in an uncomfortable position. They feed off of your insecurities, the thoughts that roam your mind like lost souls. Slouching in your head with no destination, repeated phrases that are a regurgitation of your weaknesses. All because we can't handle something.

We're all weak little bitches :)

Well anyway, that void for me works like yin and yang.

Kind of like this situation right? I write and you read. I serve my emotions on a silver platter and you consume it all, even licking the plate when you're finished.

Savoring the taste of what I'm revealing to you..

There are nights I sit at my desk, just like I'm doing now. Pen in hand, appearing as some sort of living animal. It's breathing.. I watch it as it sniffs the paper, testing its territory before having a mind of its own and feeding on the insects and dirt. It etches things into the loose tree as if it has tasks to complete. My hand shakes, unable to control its movements. It wants to be set free from my grasp but if I as little as release the tension in my knuckles, I know there's no capturing it.

The only way to tame the creature is to keep a steady grip and let it ease into the acts of writing without fear. To eat without feeling like prey to bigger and stronger predators.

In this situation my thoughts are this wild being. The one that can't control its need to write, to express the emptiness in my mind that still manages to overflow into my physical presence.

And you?

You're my hand. Physically and mentally.

You have the ability to control me. Controlling how fast I write, how much I write, and the contents that are filling these pages.