It's slipping.
My control. My sanity.
I'm trying to find a balance between the two sides of me, but I can't.
I cannot rest in the middle, a happy middle, a wonderful combination of happy and calm.
I am either happy, hyper, crazy, expressive and obnoxious...or I'm sullen, quiet, depressive, hollow, and monotone.
My psychosis is stronger than my walls can handle. Cracks are forming in the carefully construed barriers I have worked so hard to keep the sanity from either vaporising or dispersing in a smattering of crazy.
River said it best. "Please God, make me a stone."
Stones can't feel anything. Stones can't become crazy and unpredictable.
I wish I were a stone.
Everyone's emotions are in my head, pounding at my skull, hurting me.
我想昧耳，昧心，變石頭・我想昧耳，昧心，变石头
WUOshang mayer, maysheen, BYEN shr-to.
I will close my ears and my heart and I will be a stone.
That is becoming my mantra. I cannot let the monster be unleashed.
I just can't.
1 comment:
True, stones don't feel anything. But that's the problem with being a stone. Been there, done that. End result: wished I wasn't a stone. There's something to the old saying-"Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it."
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