alone time. much needed but almost uncomfortable. have i really kept myself surrounded at all times, crowding my mental (& physical) space with social interactions, distracting my mind with meaningless chatter (or meaningful? doubt it) i can feel myself growing distant from the real, but i'm trying my hardest to hang on. i've been reading things and looking through old books to remind myself of the fantasy i wish to live in. a constant reminder that i crave a life that i cannot achieve. wanting what i think i want. not knowing what i actually want. knowing what i actually want but pretending to be oblivious, to make life easier. when will i do something about it? will i ever do anything about it? or will i let jealousy consume me, and blind me. maybe i should just be grateful for what i already have.
"winter is a season for cynics" someone once said to me. it's hard to be cynical up here, but it sure as hell feels good to be.