"21.
I can’t explain the way I feel. Not even to myself. People ask me the question why, and I can never tell them. Even the things I’m sure of I’m not actually sure of. Does that make sense? I can’t put my feelings into words. I can’t explain why there is something gnawing at the insides of my stomach, fireworks exploding inside my bones, swallowed words screaming, trapped inside my lungs. I can’t describe the way it feels to long for someone or to be afraid. To spend hours dreaming of worlds where thing happen and to have to snap back and realise none of it will ever happen. I can’t explain the way I’m happy about being sad or the way I hate being sad at the same time. Or the way I like sleeping because of how it feels to be away for those hours, trapped in my mind where there is no one to hurt me, or bother me, the feeling of complete safety, and the feeling of waking up here again. Maybe there isn’t an explanation. There are so many words and infinite ways in which they can be combined, but I don’t believe that any combination of words can adequately describe the feeling I have. It that the human tragedy? The reason we’re all sad? Is it that everyone longs to be understood, but we’re all just seperate beings and no matter how much anyone wants to understand or care, it is simply impossible. We long for the impossible, someone to enter our minds, someone to feel exactly as we feel, someone to understand even without the words we can’t form. We are all so alone and we want not to be. But it is impossible. We are all trapped inside ourselves. Maybe that’s what death is. Maybe all your feelings explode out of you, and everyone can feel them too, and you can feel everything and maybe it’s amazing and beautiful and everything you’ve been waiting for your entire life."
