two parts of the same song
I haven’t written in a while, I don’t know if I’ve got that much to say. Or maybe, I have things to say but I don’t really want to say them. How long will we think about the people we’ve loved – forever? How long will we think about them and feel nostalgic for what once was…when does a person get over that? I’m constantly torn between what I have and what I think I want, and most times there’s a big blurry line down the middle and the side I wake up on depends on how I’m feeling that day. Most of the time I don’t know what I want, or if I do, I want it for 24 hours and the next day I’m okay again. I’m not really sure of what’s real and what isn’t, but it’s tiring and confusing trying to constantly figure it out. Even harder to just go with the flow and pretend I’m not trying to figure it out at all. Life is just one big learning curve, but instead mine feels like one big rollercoaster and I’m not sure where it starts and where it ends.
I’m not really sure what things mean and how I feel about them, or how I’m supposed to feel about them, and then when I do have an idea of how I feel about things, it makes me none the wiser because I’m not really sure about what those feelings mean, either. I wish there was a book or something, or a way for me to look into the future and understand what consequence this decision would have, or where this action would lead etc. But because I’m not sure of anything, I can’t make any decisions either, and so I kind of feel like I’m just here right now, floating uncertainly through space, seeing all of these different things pass by me like shooting stars but I don’t know if I should reach out and grab them or not, and I don’t know which way I’m supposed to swim. All I know is that I need to come up for air, but I can’t really manage that too well now either because there’s weights tying me down, but the water is all murky so I can’t see what’s got such a hold on me when I look down at my feet. I can’t figure out how many of my feelings are mine, and how many are based on other people. What’s real and what’s not? What’s yours and what’s mine? I don’t know. It’s disorientating to feel like you’re both losing and finding yourself at the same time, and there’s not much you can do to help in either direction. And then I wonder if this whole thing is just a metaphor in itself. This feeling…these things that I’m writing – they’re not negative but they’re not good either, right? So is that a message in itself? Is that an omen? And if so, what do I do with it? What am I supposed to do with it? I don’t know. I don’t know.
All I know is that I need to come up. And breathe.
maybe they’re all just ghosts. i remember people and it’s like i never even met them. was that me? did that really happen? it feels like it was in another life. ghosts. that’s what they are. i return to these places and all i can see are ghosts. these memories filled with people who no longer exist, who are no longer there, of time that no longer is. there’s a lump in my throat that makes me feel like i want to cry, but i don’t. it’s just scary, that everything one day will be a memory and these people will just be ghosts. people i used to know, people i used to love. i had my time with them, i did things and i was everyone and no one all at once. i was a different person and i was the same person and i was a version of myself i will never be again. a version i either liked or didn’t at the time but one that i would always be nostalgic for and want back after the fact. i don’t know who that girl was, but i miss her.
I’m missing all these memories maybe they were never mine, I feel the walls are closing, I’m running out of the time.
I think I missed the gun at the starting line.