Come into my world.

I am a dreamer. I like to envision things the way I'd like them to happen, only to complain later on that such things were never possible. The one tiny detail that always escapes my mind is that I actually need to take action and make something happen. Action needs movement, or so they say...

Sometimes, I act on it. Too soon, and then it falters and dies, leaving me wondering why. Too late, and it breaks my heart because I could have done it sooner and ended up in a different place, but realising at the same time that everything happens for a reason. It being my broken heart....? I often wonder. Other times, I choose to watch things unfold from afar. Like a spectator. My life unveils in front of me like on a stage and I find myself criticising the main character, which is... (big surprise) me. I think of all the better lines I could have written and I leave the theatre with regret.

It confounds me. It comforts me, at the same time. Having a broken heart because of something I didn't do or didn't say is familiar. So much that I often long for it in the very few glimpses of happiness I get. I always say I want to see change in the world and in my life, but I cling so tightly to the same feelings, things, photographs and memories... Like I was branded and these are all ink under my skin. Can't change it.

But here's the funny thing. Why would anyone want to change anything? All the problems and issues and experiences and bad days, they all mean something. Along all the good that happened throughout my life, I've always taken the bad, too. Because I'm a dreamer. And I dream of a day when my eyes won't cry blood. I dream of you. Every day, until I get the chance to make it real. Until then, I dream of you. Because I'm a dreamer.

Time marches on.

At the age of 24, I hardly know what life is anymore. I’m supposed to be enjoying it and making the most of it, but all I do is sit at home and wallow in self pity. I’m tired. I feel like it doesn’t matter anymore, like I don’t matter and I simply wish to disappear. If I were to evaporate as if I had never even existed, it would be best… I’d like to say I’m sorry, but that would be a lie. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry I want to die. I’m not sorry my dreams don’t matter to me anymore. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry. I’m not. I can’t feel anything but this disgusting, paralysing fear that won’t let me see past it. Like I’m hitting an invisible wall every time I try.

I’m so tired. I pretend a lot. I make my friends believe I’m okay. I’m a compulsive liar. I’m not okay. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again. But to the world, I’m fine. I party like it’s 1999, I flirt with girls and cry over the one I really like, but can’t have. I fantasize about going back to school and finally being on my way to where I always wanted to be. But I don’t know what I want anymore. Some days, I hope to god I won’t wake up in the morning. Others, very few and far in between, I actually wake up and feel a little bit better. Not entirely okay, but I keep telling myself that if a said day was better than before, then ‘okay’ has to be somewhere around the corner. It never is. I can’t remember the last time I was genuinely happy. A day when I didn’t stop to think about everything that’s so very wrong with my life and how big of a failure I am. Have I ever been happy? No, really. I went to school, graduated, had relationships, problems with family, a shitty childhood, met my favourite boyband, moved to the city of my dreams, finally accepted who I was…. And I can’t think of one day when I was just happy. Not one.

I think that’s my biggest issue. I focus so much on what happened before, trying to find a moment of happiness, so I can finally realise that I can and should try to be happy. That I should get out of bed even when I don’t want to. That I need a purpose and motivation to fulfil all of my dreams, big or little. But I just can’t. I can’t even say what’s stopping me other than…. Well, me. I feel so disconnected from the world, from myself, from everything that once mattered. I’m just throwing it all away and for today, it’s okay. I can’t fight it anymore. Tonight I want to lay down and never wake up. Cause maybe, just maybe, that would stop this heartache I feel every day when I’m taking one more step away from what I want and what I could do with my life. Perhaps. Such is life, I guess.