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“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

--T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

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The Awesome Power of Procrastination

*Trigger Warning: self-harm The power of procrastination is so awesome that even though I have been without Internet access for several hours and I have things that I think I want to do, I have spent that time lying on top of my bed thinking about how I would do all the things I want to do if I were to do them. Very productive. I think that the ideas I have are worth so much more in my head, I can fetishize every negative feeling and pretend that it makes me special or interesting in some way. But when the thoughts become words that I type out and read back, I realise how banal everything about me is. That's probably the real reason writing blog posts and writing in my journal gets a little harder every time. Here is a quick list of the things I should be doing right now: On Tuesday I had a very intense dream that was terrifying enough to make me feel slightly separate from my body all week. Even now, everything feels a little unreal and abnormal; I haven't stopped
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The Mad Girl: Day 7

There should be about 6 days of this crap left(according to the professionals). Maybe more, I can't keep track of the days anymore.

"It's only about numbing the pain, forgetting, letting the world fade away for a while and making breathing a little more bearable again."

I tried facing my feelings today, but it just made me cry and then gave me heart palpitations that are making me feel light-headed. I've been thinking about all the times I've wanted to die and trying to figure out if this counts as one of them. A life of loneliness is a terrifying prospect. Add that to knowing that the man I love is out there loving someone else at this very moment and I can't think of a single reason to keep trying. Why am I alive when so many people are fighting to survive right now? Why can't they have my place in the world? I don't want it.


Asleep - Emily Browning

Also, there's this

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