Somehow, I've made it this far. It's the middle of October and I'm already starting to feel that burnt out feeling. The one where you know you've gone so far and the next step is going to make you fall and bleed. But time's got your back. Or rather, it's pushing you ahead; forcing you to go on even when your tank is running on empty. And that's just school. Chores, visitors that just tire the crap out of you (and for some reason, only speak Arabic), and trying to maintain a social life while scraping by on the bare minimum of sleep is a fucking chemical bomb smiling at me.
Taunting me.
Jabbing its razor sharp finger in my face and pointing out that my toes are already touching my breaking point. I don't even have enough time to be writing this. I've lost. Life won and I lost.
So I'm drowning myself in anything will take away the awful realization of how much I've screwed up in just a month or two. When did four years become so important? When did my life spin out of control? When did I even have the smallest semblance of control in my life? Cause I'd like that feeling back. I'd like to actually feel like what I'm doing makes the smallest difference.
Why did I have to wake up? Why couldn't I have just lost myself in school, or my friends, or anything that actually mattered? But no.
I'm lost in this idiotic thing called my mind where it can't distinguish between midnight or 3 am until the next morning. Where my mom's voice is as distant as an echo until she's standing in my room, yelling and wondering why I'm not vacuuming, studying, reading, or doing something mildly productive. Where nothing means anything until it's gone.
Even now, with some Snow Patrol playing, I'm stuck in a place between action and thought, and I'm lost.
How do I get out of this cycle of just waiting for the yelling to start, the grades to fall, the dog to start whining, the house to catch on fire before I finally turn the facet on and douse the flames bucket by insufficient bucket?
When do the flames at last consume their creator? When will my nights burn bright from my own skin? When will this world actually make sense to the person trapped beneath her warm and consoling blankets? When will the questions end and German grammar will actually make sense and people will finally be able to grade my quizzes correctly? (Okay, it's not in the right blank but I did the work and it makes sense!)
Angst... Teenage Angst. The Bane of my current existence.
Sleep is my own consolation. Sorry friends, family, role models, favorite authors, teachers, pets, movies, books, and even Buffy. But my mind is weary and my eyes are sore.
There is an expectation everyone has in their lives and of themselves. I've been... misled by mine. School was supposed to be something I could handle. Life was just a conduit for my innermost thoughts and this... was supposed to mean something.
You try to make something out of it.
I can't.
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