I was wondering when was the last time my heart sounded like a heart. One morning it sounded like footsteps, or door banging upon your leaving, or blackouts, or sobbing and throwing. Heartbeats became the projections of my self-created wars, i called myself martyrs.
I do not remember what stability felt like. I'm used to the way of running that without constant rush, life felt like nothing. Pumped until empty. Carved until hollow. Racing thoughts are meals. Sitting down felt like dying. Laying down means i have to think. I do not want to think. So i am used to blocking out feelings. Did i ever know boundaries upon sanity? I probably do not. These thoughts are lawless, and ungoverned.
I have not taken a rests for a few weeks now, these are a kind of defense mechanisms. I keep myself busy with papers and people. Medicated. Write the thoughts away. Thinking and theories. Just to keep a small part of you from going rampant in my mind. Anxieties taking over my body. I run blindly exhausting everything.
And for what reasons?
And everyone has addictions, mine just come in a pretty package and a brand. So on-brand that people cheers. These are compensations for all the ways i'm hurting. These are a facade so well done i call it achievements.
If i were then what i was now, would we survive?
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