Outlet

I'd write about my life, as I've done since the beginning of the year, but it seems as though there is nothing to say.  My life seems so empty now, so tasteless, so pointless, and any words I wrote about it would be the same.

I feel lost, like life can't go on, even though I know it will. Life always goes on the same. Always the same. Even though I don't want it to. I want everything to just stop for awhile, things to slow down, come to a stop, just for a bit, long enough for me to catch my breath. But it never does. Time goes racing on the same as ever, life goes on and I still have to keept trying to keep up with it because being left behind isn't even an option. If you're alive, you have to keep going. And I am alive, even if I don't feel that way sometimes. Sometimes my heart, my life, everything, feels so empty that I think I must have died. Or perhaps all happiness simply decided to leave me and when it did, left me only in possession of this hurt, this sadness, this emptiness. Oh, that it would all leave, all the emotion! The happiness is all gone anyway, why not just take away the rest and be done with it? At least then I would have peace. That at least could remain, because that is not an emotion, merely a state of being.

I have nothing left to say, at least not for the time being. Words seem so useless right now anyway, for there is no way they could ever express the way I feel. It seems they never can. So why do I like writing so much? Why is my passion for something that doesn't even begin to describe who I am or what I think or what I feel? And yet, what could describe all that? Nothing could ever truly show who anyone is or describe their deepest desires, or explain their most heartfelt emotions. And so I do the only thing I know how to. I try to fit what I feel into words that, though they will never do my heart justice, at least begin to make my heart seen. I write. I put the things that mean the most to me in words that barely scratch the surface of what those things really are. But they give my heart an outlet, and that is why I put forward this feeble attempt - to make my heart feel better.

7-1-12 10:38PM