Thu Aug 29 5:59 PM / Processing

I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no idea what I want. I have no idea where to go --

from here

I find myself clinging to the past. I find myself trying to predict the future. I find myself wanting / NEEDING / that control --

time and time again

I long to feel something. Anything. Just please / PLEASE / let me feel something. Even now, I am --

breaking

I am still breathing. I am still alive. Why can't I feel my fingers as I type this? Why is there this emptiness where my heart used to be? Why am I so goddamn afraid of being alone? What is this? This loss? This feeling of no feeling --

all consuming

I hate it. I hate this. I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate the way you make me feel, the way you make me not feel. You've taken it all away. I've given it to you. That's what I hate the most. You take and take and take, and I give and give and give. Is that the way you see it, too? I wonder how you see it. I wonder what this all looks like through your eyes. Your experience fascinates me, and I resent it. That word --

resent

Is that not a feeling?

Of course it is. Who am I kidding? I'm just looking for someone, someone to --

blame

Here I am, over and over, playing the victim.