Evicted From My Bubble

Since I last posted, I’ve been a complete zombie. I’ve not been able to sleep properly or do anything other than stare into space or wanting to cry, or both. Things that I once loved doing have become bland. They’ve lost all flavour and colour. I can even bring myself to pick up an instrument. The world around me looks plain and uninviting as if somebody put a cold Instagram filter over my eyes. It’s so difficult to look forward to anything when you know it could all be lost because of this.

Here, I Am

I’m not going to lie, the last few months have felt the loneliest ever. Confusing as fuck too. The more I try and dig for answers, the more frustrated I get with the world. Well actually, not the world…frustrated with me. Ultimately, it’s not the world’s fault I’m like this. If I did have any issue with the world, I suppose it’d be because it doesn’t seem very tolerant of stuff like this. Whether I ignore this or try to figure it out, there is something which shouts up from the back of my mind, trying to make itself heard. I think it’s the answer to all of this. Turns out I kind of knew all along.