When the sun goes down

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Sometimes,
or maybe just once,
all the colors of the world dissapear,
and you sink in to the deep
where there is no light

You sit on the bottom of the cave
and can’t fall deeper,
but can’t climb – you’re completely stuck

I don’t know what is worse,
but all I know is
that even if you’re on the bottom of the cave

and when the sun goes down
it does come up again
even if you can not bear the light.

The pebblestone in the desert

Honestly, I guess I have to admit I don’t have much ‘life’. It’s one of these days again that everything is empty and life seems an endless torture to me. I’m sad, empty and angry at the same time, and yet nothing at all.

Life is just not for everyone. To have a house, to lead a peaceful life, that’s just not for everyone. Like a pebblestone that needs water to bounce, I’m like a pebblestone that ended up in the desert. You just fall, and sink away in the sand: that’s me.

Somehow it’s a rough time again. Family issues, and the more I think about it, the more sick I feel. Emotional traps, nasty games, and even if I’m not super close, it affects me more then I would like to admit. And I feel so sorry for my parents, who are hugely affected by it. When I was younger I was angry at them so many times. And now I understand it better. Some things you just don’t see when you’re young. That they were trapped and part of an unfair, nasty game. I feel sorry for them that their lives are so destroyed and affected. It’s bad to say, but I hope they will be finally free when the person who does that and who is left, dies. That’s terrible to say I realize and know. Yet I’m afraid I think it would really be that way, though they will not ever be free from it: some damage is done forever.

Work was also pretty shitty, it gets worse. I can’t even find the words for it to describe what is going on. But I feel tension going up and up, I feel more pressure and I feel like I’m falling apart. I doubt about things I should not doubt, and I think I do my work less good.

I drag myself at home. I wait for the train, stare in the emptiness of the station, even when it’s full of people. I sit on the train, feeling braindead. I drag myself home; trying to slalom between cars and bikes and walking people who all seem to be in such a hurry and seem to rule the world, where’s there no space for empty people like me.

I hide myself in bed and when the night falls, I go out to the grocery store. Immediatly when you walk in, the neon signs and advertisements jump into your sights. I get superannoyed by that lately; it’s too much. With a task that’s not so difficult; get your groceries together but feels like running a survivalrun, I dissapear into the night again, trying to avoid every other living human being and try to get home as soon as I can, to crawl away in my cave again. I don’t want to face anyone or anything anymore, I just want to be left alone, and yet my heart aches so badly that I don’t know what to do about it. I feel awful, I’m not hungry and I don’t pick up my phone when someone calls.

All I am, is the pebblestone in the desert.

The face without the picture

 

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The winter tends to blow apart –
where autumn reminds the flowers to drop their leaves
it’s not the time, yet.

in the hallway, there is a bookcase,
dark brown, from wood,
old books, a vase, and a picture frame
where it should –

stand alone
or stand together
It’s a frameless frame for what it matters
And what you see is what you get

The life without the heart
A rain that doesn’t wet.

Sorrow without tears

a tree without its leaf-
a rose without its grief-
needless to say
it’s like the grass without the rain
it’s the night without the day

the glass without water,
the paper without  pencil

it’s as you stare at the clock
but no matter what, it isn’t moving

and still time goes by.

 

 

Living what life?

Imagine. But it’s a truth.

I have a day job.A changing amount of hours every week. Nothing steady, nothing fancy.   Permanent contracts out of the question . It’s not the question if you have to leave or not:  the question is when.

It’s not a special job: everyone could do it I guess, there is no special degree needed for it, though when they make selections, they kind of pretend it that way.

Despite that the colleagues are nice, I guess the job is not making me happy at all. I keep telling myself that it could be worse, and seriously, this is not the worst job I had. In fact it’s the best, as you speak in friendliness and payment. But that, is not everything.

And however I make enough to support myself, it will not, or never,  make me rich. It will not help me to buy a house or something. It will just help me to pay the bills, and lead a moderate life in terms of – yeah, in terms of what exactly?

Work became something I don’t look forward to anymore. It became dull, unrewarding, and the days become longer, though in minutes they didn’t expand at all. I feel like a robot, a part of a system that isn’t really a good one, but, that’s something you should’t care or question about; it just makes things more complicated for yourself.

there are a lot of indications that this isn’t the job that makes me happy.It gets harder in time. I get headaches, I’m tired, and I care less, I lost my motivation. I try to do things right, but it’s never right anyway and hard working doesn’t get you anywhere. It’s not even notices. Maybe I would really like to find a job in my field of interest, but I don’t really know what my field of interest is. Often people say that is bullshit, but I’m really not sure myself.

As well I always feel like I’m not qualified enough or there is too much asked in a profile which I’m not. Also this game of who’s the best candidate, and all this fancy stuff, isn’t my thing. Sometimes I wonder about going back to study, but it’s unsure how I could afford that or support myself. And if I could make it, with my mental struggles. I guess I have motivation issues. It’s not that I don’t want, I’m not sure exactly what it is. It just makes things complicated. I also wonder if the degree or certificate would help anyway- I don’t think so). It would be just lost money. But what am I working towards to? To keep working like this and supporting myself to rent a house and buy food and keep that going for 20 or 30 years?
I passed the point where all the questions and thoughts keep me from sleeping. It became normal part of my life. Where simply a year ago these things would keep me up , they became a part of me – they don’t keep me from sleeping, but just continue during my sleep.

I wish I could explain how I feel. But the truth is: I’m not sure myself.

All I know is that I struggle to find my words, to find my feelings, to find the change.

All I know is that what you are reading, are just words to you, but it’s blood of my soul.

And all the words that I can’t find, are frustrating me that I can’t get them out.

That I can’t find the step to change. That I can’t do things different.

that I don’t know what I feel. That I dont know what i want.

That I just can’t make things better for myself.

What am I living?

I forgot how it was

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Shifting sands, there I was, on the beach.
Standing alone, straight up in the wind.
The big endless sea, threatening these waves in my direction
But I won’t
step aside.

As the sun used to rise
And as the moon used to be around here
As the dark is becoming day
And the light dissapear

It’s the perfect place to be
I just forgot how
it feels.