Idk~
There are a million things and also absolutely nothing going through my head right now.
I know I have thoughts but accessing them is a hard thing.
Much like my memories.
See, it's like there's a wall that divides me from them.
You could call it a dam that prevents it all from breaking loose, flowing and flowing and never stopping.
Once in a while there's a breach in the dam or it completely collapses altogether, built back up by my brain after the crash of the waves have lessened enough to numb me back to normal.
But if you ask me what my thoughts are, writing is one of the few ways for me to find out.
Others including singing and talking to myself aloud, so I can hear whatever goes on back there.
I've been having the same kind of thoughts for a bit, now.
I look up to the sky sometimes and I feel jealous.
Of the birds and of the clouds.
Just going around, minding their business, no thought just floating and vibing.
To be honest, I'm tired.
I guess we all are or most of us are.
Life isn't the pretty thing we saw when we were younger.
Or maybe it is but certain things here and there slowly drowned out that earlier joy to be here.
To be human.
So now, I like to imagine I'm a bird in the sky, a cloud floating nonchalantly above our heads, a fairy living in a little tree hollow or large mushroom...
It's just nice to imagine being anything else.
Being conscious is not easy.
Having thoughts isn't, either.
Because although I don't think them all the time, I can feel them.
I feel things rather intensely or I feel nothing at all, it's always one or the other.
So I try to drift away, despite this heavy body trying to force me to stay on the ground.
I pretend for a moment that I don't have more years of suffering to come.
Once in a while I tell myself pretty lies of how perhaps I'll be happy, some day.
It's a nice hope to have, I guess.
We all need to have silly dreams like that.
It keeps things interesting and definitely gets a laugh when it inevitably crashes to the ground.
Gosh I wish this was positive but it's one of those extra difficult nights, where I hang silently in the balance between fully losing my sanity and sinking into the dark abyss of my depression.
Sadness, magic and madness, I remember Magic Man from Adventure Time once said that.
I suppose that's life.
Sad and magical and utterly insane.
I wish I had prettier words to type or a prettier song to sing but I suppose it was nice to rant.
I'll get through this, somehow, some way, I'm sure.
Don't I always, whether I want to or not?
And then off to the next period of sadness.
It's been years since I first sank deeply into this, back when I finally compared myself to the world hard enough that I toppled off the edge of it.
Here's to the many more to come, I suppose.