Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Sleepy... Tired... Exhausted.

The feeling, the adventure, the need of adventure... the budding of inspiration. This sort of thing nags at me lately, only to disappear when I'm actually in a position to record it. What is wrong with me that I can't get my thoughts out...? I feel like I'm holding myself back somehow.
I stop myself from joining RP's or anything because track record shows I grow bored with it after a few days, like I've gotten it out of my system or something.
Maybe I'm afraid.
What was it, the feeling... it was all created by my own psyche? The fantasy? Enabler... But... I will place no blame.
Random ramblings, putting what comes to mind on print.
Such a time I live in... or rather, a reality I live in. What we don't have, what isn't real seems so much better. Dreamer. My head is in the clouds... inhaling the vapor that makes me believe some things are real, some things are alright, fabrication of reality.
Psychosis... the inability to tell reality from fantasy. I think I'm on the edge of psychosis. I could pull myself back, but it just seems... so much better on the other side. The warmth of what never was. A feeling of want of what I thought I once had. I think everyone probably has issues similar. I think it's my want to escape that I keep returning to these lands. I've got to keep myself together and keep looking forward, rather than back.

Fate watches and waits, deals me a loaded deck. She trys to help, and speaks to my heart, only to betray my mind and my future. My cards are exactly what I want, but, what I want won't win the game. I don't know what to ask for to win her card game. I'm my own worst enemy.
To create anew...? There aren't enough hours in the day. Looking forward neglects the problems of here and now. A balance.
Slashing, biting, clawing, a clutched fist pushed into the air. I want to resist. Every fiber tells me to. Assimilation, to compromise what I am right now... I don't... I fear change?
Fishie...
None of that matters anymore. Truly. I figure the image is bad, negative, scum of the earth. Probably right. I will press onwards either way. Conceptions are in the eyes of the viewer.
Only when something is observed does it become real in this reality. Real in this timeline. Maybe I'm not real, I'm nothing to you, I'll vanish as soon as you let me.