Don’t stop believin’/Hold on to that feelin’

Holding on. Holding in.

I’m just holding on to something and I really don’t know what it is.

Is it that fluttery feeling of butterflies in my stomach that I get whenever I can make you smile, make you laugh?

That feeling of gaga-ness when my point of attack is working?

Or is it that feeling that you seem to just be focused on me and not much else as we talk our little talks, our usual catch-ups and sweet nothings?

Ahhh, the sweet nothings.

That pretty much sums me up.

Sweet nothings. The sweet nothings of words, of actions, of hope upon hope.

Hoping for the best, a bright future of romantic endeavors of the ideals.

Ahh LOVE.

L

O

V

E

It is just sweet nothings that I know nothing of. Just a tad, smidge, out of reach for this soul of mine ’cause it is so fractured and damaged that if it had it, it would just wear it down and tarnish it into something that isn’t what it really was.

Who am I to ruin something that is so pure?

Who am I?

* * *

I am in misery. There ain’t nobody who can comfort me.

Is there really anyone that can comfort me? Shouldn’t that be something that I should be myself.

Separate myself from any desires, reach the Zen state of mind that I, in a way, constantly search for and just BE.

Just BE.

Be.

Like a buzzing bee that buzzes around. BUZZ BUZZ annoying me. Keeping it in the back of my mind that it is Out there somewhere and I just need to keep my eyes open, my heart open, and just let people in.

Allow for the unexpected. Allow for someone. Allow to be hurt.

Just be who I am and allow for the impossible.

I am just holding myself back.

My heart just doesn’t want to hurt anymore, as it finally found some sort of solace or a drug that worked it’s magic, creating a balance of euphoric phorica of niceness and numbness that is just bearable, allowing me to function and just BE.

Buzz buzz.

* * *

Fire

Burning.

It just burns. That desire just burns like fire.

And like a caveman, I’m too afraid to extinguish it, to lose it forever and might not be able to get that desire back, even though in some sort of sick way, I need it.

I must have it. It’s the gas to my engine, keeping me going through this life.

There must be something to this thing called life. Maybe.

As I just sit here and type my life away, as the soft piano keys just tip-tap melodically in my ears, I sit exist.

Existing.

There’s not much to it.

Straddling this fine line. Something there. There’s just this.

There’s just this and I am to make the best of it.

That’s the most logical.

There’s just this.

* * *

If not now, then when…

It’s hot. Very hot.

Sweat pours out of my pores like a fat man in a sauna.

It’s hot, but I trudge on anyway, looking, searching. It has to be here, has to be. There’s no other place that I can lose it. I can’t lose it. It’s my life.

I decide to take a break and crack open a window, hoping that will work…

* * *

Poor attempt. Poor shot.

Not focused and too much thinking.

I continue on the tip-tap of these Joycian diatribes and try to pull something out of it.

Words flow. Words come easy. Whether they are good or not, I’m not sure, but these fingers are tapping away.

* * *

I don’t know if I can yell any louder….

Screaming. Yelling.

Hear me now…or not.

Really, I don’t have much to say. Just typing away.

Strangely enough, The Ghrofson has been asking me to lunch quite a bit lately.

Maybe it is just that she’s secretly in love with me and since she gave her notice, knows that she won’t be seeing me much anymore, so she’s packing in all the time that she can get.

Maybe. I’m sure she’ll be like whatever, but secretly she knows that my assumptions are true.

For the most part, I enjoy her company. We don’t do small talk, as we actually do talk about things.

I for the most part am open with most people, able to be open and honest. I really don’t have anything to hide, but it isn’t with everyone that I can have that kind of conversations with.

It has to be someone that I trust, like family, or close friends.

But, I don’t know…I just never thought I’d actually cry in front of her.

I did.

It’s not something I would like to do, cry in front of people, but sometimes it happens.

Maybe it was just because I was talking about dad and we all know I’m still a little fucked about that. I don’t know when I’ll be not fucked about it.

Maybe never.

But I did.

My voice trembled as I try to keep composed…not wanting to fully lose it.

Tears swell, on the verge, but none fell.

I turn away, apologizing, wiping them away.

I need to keep my emotions in check.

Hopefully I can, but I know I can’t.

For the most part, I’m just an emotional mess. My Emoness is a result of my big heart, always feeling for others. I’m an empath gone wild.

Sigh.

Sigh indeed.

Such a softie.

Blah, but I don’t know. I guess it has just been a while since my heart panged for my dad.

I know he’s constantly in my mind, but it’s been a while since I miss him.

* * *