It's like my mind and heart are on a raging rampage. They never correlate. It's the classic angel and devil analogy.
I have this sick obsession for independence and freedom tugged with a long to feel genuinely close to something or someone, all at the same time. It makes no sense but then it makes all the sense in the world.
You see what I mean?
I always feel the need to fix what's not broken. Anticipating the worst, before the worst actually happens -- which then only intensifies what the worst was initially going to be.
Nothing ever just is, with me. There's always an ongoing mental battle, inflicting me and the people I care about most.
But see, that pain, that heartfelt thump, that confusion, that indecisiveness... it dazzles me to the point of no return.
For a long time, I felt as if everything was falling into place. Everything was exactly where it should be. But, I didn't feel alive. Nothing phased me. All I felt was this underlying comfort and empty satisfaction that was just utterly dull.
I don't want to know the answer to everything. I want to feel love and be hurt, and heal, and then do it all over again. That's my ideal satisfaction.
Here's the catch though: The moment I start to feel my emotions belittling my control (which is what usually tends to happen in "my ideal satisfaction"), I cave in before I fully digest whatever it is I was starting to really feel.
It terrifies me to feel anything again. Not because I'm afraid to get hurt, I'm open to that. But because I've grown a disgust for stability and commitment to just one feeling. I want to feel everything and anything; but in rotation and in it's most raw, wildest form.
I'm a funhouse of a puzzle even to myself. And no, not those fun, easily constructed ones; the ones that have a fucking million microscopic pieces where they all look like they would fit together, only to realize an hour later that they don't. And then when you do finally figure out the pieces, it's a picture of a Parrot Fish.
A freaking Parrot Fish.
A freaking Parrot Fish.
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