(no subject)
Sep. 7th, 2004 06:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyI don't understand where autumn came from. It feels like the dead leaves are still last year's, like there was never a chance to clear them from the ground. What happened? How did I miss so much? I forget sometimes that while I'm passing through life, life's passing me by. I expect things to pause for me, and then I get confused when they don't.
It's windy today. Not so much blowing as heavily sighing, and when you're over-identifying with the weather you know you must be ill. I'm ill. My head's working all crazy. I'm shaking and electric, trying to stay still and unable to move. I should be in bed, but bed is overrated. There are people I have to talk to to feel human, to feel okay. I feel okay. I'm still breathing, right?
Right?
The sun is gonna go soon, and I forgot to see it. A summer without a trip to the beach is sad. Without a trip to the park is just pathetic. My arms hurt. I feel like I'm having to hold them back from something, like without my control they'd be flailing madly. Tense and aching. I feel like I should be having more trouble typing this. My brain is foggy and strange. It feels unfamiliar. Like doors have opened, only I can't really see behind them. I guess I'll have to see if they're still open when the mist clears. I feel like I'm on the edge of some discovery about myself.
I feel like I'm talking bollocks.
Does this make any sense? I genuinely don't know. I can't remember what I've written, which is interesting, but interesting in a blank minded kind of way because I can't remember what I've written. Which is interesting.
Strangely enough, this is me when I've actually *had* sleep.
I think I'm ill.
It's windy today. Not so much blowing as heavily sighing, and when you're over-identifying with the weather you know you must be ill. I'm ill. My head's working all crazy. I'm shaking and electric, trying to stay still and unable to move. I should be in bed, but bed is overrated. There are people I have to talk to to feel human, to feel okay. I feel okay. I'm still breathing, right?
Right?
The sun is gonna go soon, and I forgot to see it. A summer without a trip to the beach is sad. Without a trip to the park is just pathetic. My arms hurt. I feel like I'm having to hold them back from something, like without my control they'd be flailing madly. Tense and aching. I feel like I should be having more trouble typing this. My brain is foggy and strange. It feels unfamiliar. Like doors have opened, only I can't really see behind them. I guess I'll have to see if they're still open when the mist clears. I feel like I'm on the edge of some discovery about myself.
I feel like I'm talking bollocks.
Does this make any sense? I genuinely don't know. I can't remember what I've written, which is interesting, but interesting in a blank minded kind of way because I can't remember what I've written. Which is interesting.
Strangely enough, this is me when I've actually *had* sleep.
I think I'm ill.
