Solitude and loneliness 

This is a thank you note to a couple of people, who might have no idea how much their presence helps me. 
Loneliness is an ugly thing. I’ve been sleeping in a friend’s room for almost a week. I’m very grateful for this, he might not even notice, but to me it’s a big caring gesture. It makes me happy, which I haven’t been in a while. I’ve come to notice that I’m feeling lonely, which is extremely different from being alone. I’ve been surrounding myself with people; people who seem to love me, they seem to care. But I still feel it, loneliness. This hasn’t happened in over 4 years, it’s hard to go back into the same spot I was. There are people whose company, as silent it may be, give me a great comfort. Loneliness goes away for a moment. They make my heart happy, and I thank them for that. 

I’ve learned to be alone my whole life. There’s nothing wrong with that. It is actually nice; solitude is very freeing and somewhat comfortable. It is enjoying your own company and the beauty that silence can be. I’m trying to get back to that point. It isn’t as easy as I’d like, but nothing ever is. At the end of the day I just tell myself everything’s going to be fine, because it will. Nothing ever lasts, and for once that ain’t such a bad thing. 

Not anymore

But what will happen? What will happen after this?

Will I go back to being myself? 

Or a lost part of you will find its way through my skin and bones? 

I feel. I know that now. 

I feel and it’s not only beautiful but terrifying. 

My head is overloaded, sometimes empty. 

It is a paradox how much I can have inside

How beautiful can the world be seen through my eyes 

And still there’s something very dark in all of these…

Feelings.

“I think about dying but I dont want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out of it.” – Matt Healy

Nothing

22/02/2016

I need these feelings to escape my soul, but how do I write about them? I have no idea. My head is pounding with the voices inside. Today I felt homesick for the very first time. It’s a strange feeling of impotence towards everything. There’s not much you can do. You’re in an unknown city surrounded by strangers. The fear of not having control over anything is taking over me. I don’t know what will happen next, how shittier might things get. I’m alone in this place, surrounded by millions of masses but still lonely. And what to expect from others? Nothing. That’s the best answer. A hug, reassuring smile? Nothing! You’re not suppose to expect anything, because you’ll end up more disappointed. 

I’m waiting for the day these feelings disappear, it might be tomorrow or the day after that. I just wish with all in me they go away, so I can have some peace of mind. 

To be anxious

19/02/2016

Shaking uncontrollably because of fucking anxiety, hardly breathing and racing thoughts that make you want to slap yourself across the face too many times.
“Stop it!” I want to yell at myself, but can’t because my voice trembles.

“Please, stop it.” I say to no one in particular, pleading for some rest. For my thoughts to be quite just for one second.

When I finally calm down everything is blurry, my mind can’t concentrate, it needs to be shut down. Reset. Another day. Everything will be better. That’s what I tell myself every fucking time. But to be anxious…to have fucking anxiety… I don’t wish it upon anyone.

But let me assure you, everything WILL be better. Even when it doesn’t feel like it will.

I’m S C R E W E D

14/12/2015

“Well, well…look who’s back. The writer who doesn’t write.” they said indignantly as she posted on her social platform. “Apologizing for leaving us here, with an insatiable expectance of what’s next. Huh! Unforgivable.”

“I beg your pardon, my lords! Please forgive my lack of commitment!” she admitted with sorrow.

“She most learn her lesson!” someone yelled.

“She most be punished!” another complained.

“Cut her hands!” everyone demanded. “So she’ll respect the right of actually writing.”

“No!” she begged “Please, no!”

 

Okay… very dramatic. Please don’t cut my hands, haha. I apologize (as I’ve done thousands of times before) for the lack of posting. I hope you’d like my small representation of an apology.

Now! Back to my life… as I’m what matters here (jk). I’m screwed! Totally, totally screwed. Because I just found out that I have exactly 3 days and 2 nights to write a proper novel sample for me to send as an audition into a Creative Writing Program, which I’ve always wish to be in.

I know what your wondering… “But Sam, if you’re a writer, shouldn’t you have an old writing piece you can send?” Well let me tell you, my dear social platform audience, that the first line of the fictitious conversation in the beginning it’s true. I’m a writer who doesn’t write…as much as I’d like to. Yes, an atrocious truth. So, as I’ve said before… I’m screwed!

You’ll wonder, what am I doing here? Writing about this big-ass problem, and not a novel sample. Well, I was writing, but nothing seemed good enough. Lack of confidence in novel writing maybe.

I know what you’ll say, “Don’t give up! Keep on going! It’s your long time dream!”. Those are actually words from me to me, but I receive whatever positive thoughts you have for me as well.

As I’ve been saying…I’m screwed. And empty of words. So, I’ll try and update you on what happends.

Love Always, Sam.