Lost Stars

Sunday, September 21, 2014

I’m afraid I can’t find the perfect piece to pin up on my little space in the world wide web. I can’t find any typography, quote or song that will summarize everything that’s been in my head for like, nine long days.

It’s a Sunday morning, and I’m supposed to be writing an exposition, but instead I’m writing something I know would be completely vague. Because it’s something I also don’t understand. I can’t describe. I have no idea what it is. It’s like a mixtape with the roll tangled.

There’s nothing I can do with anything in me available to help myself stop with all the giddy feeling and clammy hands and psychedelic noise and barmy everything else. It’s inevitable, and I’m crying for help because it’s just all so wrong. And I want it to stop—I want to stop having feelings at all.

Like lost stars, I wanna find something out for myself. I want to help myself out of this, although the whole world knows it can’t be.