But I want to say that I do care. I would like to stop reading books, I'd rather not read nothing at all. I do care and it's hard to stop. Not that anyone would understand this. No that anyone would slightly care.
But I do.
And I want to stop taking pictures, to stop thinking, to stop writing diaries (that I don't want to write but have to) and stop having these dreams, and stop having nightmares, and stop having insomnia, and stop trembling and trembling and trembling while I get annoyed because I really can't make it stop. Because I can't truly sleep, because I can't truly listen to music, because I can't truly be or do or whatever. But I keep on caring (while I'd rather not).
I've spent a lot of nights trying to sleep. The trembling won't go away. I would try to breath normally. The trembling won't go away. I'd better try crying, I think. The trembling will be worse than ever.
Just because I do care. I do care about future, I guess. I care about tomorrow, and I care about yesterday. Today is nothing, just a door for tomorrow, a regret from yesterday, another night without sleeping, another dream way too real...
And I don't want to care anymore, I don't want to wake up some day or everyday with that feeling in the deepest corner of my chest. Probably, it isn't that I don't want: I can't do it anymore.
I have been guessing that this moment would come, but I never ever realized that I would feel like this. The truth is that I can't handle this anymore. Another day would simply kill me, another week would make me invisible, a couple of months would make me disappear forever (and with pleasure, and just out of cowardice, I'd simply disappear)
It is sad, isn't it? That because I am too afraid to make questions everything had to be transformed into this. I don't feel that this is my fault, though. It would be insane to think about this like that. I should have been honest to myself from the very beggining. Honest not in the sense of saying what I expected or what I wanted to happen: Honest in the sense that I knew how everything will be, and even with that, I decided to simply be myself, too afraid to ask, too afraid to go away, and even too afraid to care for myself and my own peace of mind.
I guess I need a huge huge huge full stop. It's difficult. I was confident enough to think that time would make everything work. Probably, I was wrong. Probably, I'm not wrong yet. Maybe I'll never know.
But I do know this: I have to stop caring (or embrace reality as hard as it is, as painful as it must be, and as real as my own sadness).
I'll go for stop caring (I don't know how to treat myself, how to talk to myself or how to look myself with so much sadness, anyway)
If anyone should make this stop, then stop it. That one has been my greatest expectation, and if it should happen at some moment, well, this is THE MOMENT. (should I say... 'please?')
But I do.
And I want to stop taking pictures, to stop thinking, to stop writing diaries (that I don't want to write but have to) and stop having these dreams, and stop having nightmares, and stop having insomnia, and stop trembling and trembling and trembling while I get annoyed because I really can't make it stop. Because I can't truly sleep, because I can't truly listen to music, because I can't truly be or do or whatever. But I keep on caring (while I'd rather not).
I've spent a lot of nights trying to sleep. The trembling won't go away. I would try to breath normally. The trembling won't go away. I'd better try crying, I think. The trembling will be worse than ever.
Just because I do care. I do care about future, I guess. I care about tomorrow, and I care about yesterday. Today is nothing, just a door for tomorrow, a regret from yesterday, another night without sleeping, another dream way too real...
And I don't want to care anymore, I don't want to wake up some day or everyday with that feeling in the deepest corner of my chest. Probably, it isn't that I don't want: I can't do it anymore.
I have been guessing that this moment would come, but I never ever realized that I would feel like this. The truth is that I can't handle this anymore. Another day would simply kill me, another week would make me invisible, a couple of months would make me disappear forever (and with pleasure, and just out of cowardice, I'd simply disappear)
It is sad, isn't it? That because I am too afraid to make questions everything had to be transformed into this. I don't feel that this is my fault, though. It would be insane to think about this like that. I should have been honest to myself from the very beggining. Honest not in the sense of saying what I expected or what I wanted to happen: Honest in the sense that I knew how everything will be, and even with that, I decided to simply be myself, too afraid to ask, too afraid to go away, and even too afraid to care for myself and my own peace of mind.
I guess I need a huge huge huge full stop. It's difficult. I was confident enough to think that time would make everything work. Probably, I was wrong. Probably, I'm not wrong yet. Maybe I'll never know.
But I do know this: I have to stop caring (or embrace reality as hard as it is, as painful as it must be, and as real as my own sadness).
I'll go for stop caring (I don't know how to treat myself, how to talk to myself or how to look myself with so much sadness, anyway)
If anyone should make this stop, then stop it. That one has been my greatest expectation, and if it should happen at some moment, well, this is THE MOMENT. (should I say... 'please?')
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