Train stations in the early morning

I don't think I have ever been as confused as I am at this point in my ridiculously short life. My emotions and thoughts vary so greatly from one hour to the next and I feel like I can't handle my own mind anymore.

The thoughts about everything being a simple but yet complicated creation of mine are scary and rather recurring. The "what if?" doesn't seem to dissolve in my sea of broken thoughts, thoughts that seem to have a mind of their own and don't care about the fact that sometimes I feel like I can't grasp reality, at all. What does that even mean, to grasp reality?

Does everyone feel this way? Does everyone reach this point in their lives, where they realise how complicated it is to even begin to understand their own mind?



Is the only way to be with you to sleep and hope to dream of better choices and better times? Probably. It does seem to work. It makes it easier to cope with all this bullshit.

Life's good otherwise.

Summer updates

You wake up at 11 not knowing where you are. His parents bedroom, OK. How did you get here? A big blur after that one extra shot. You get up, fix your T-shirt that you somehow put on backwards last night. Who's still here? -you wonder. Where is everyone? Did they leave? And oh god, you smoked far too many cigarettes last night. Your lungs feel heavy and it hurts to breathe. You cough and walk out of the room and find the bathroom. Well you're in one piece but your entire body hurts and you're missing every thought that went through your head after the tequila. Is this how you want your days to be?


Headaches and heartaches

Have you ever thought about how different headaches can feel? The ache that you feel the morning after a night with too many drinks and cheap vodka shots is so different to the pain that fills your entire head because they made you cry a little too much this time, because it actually did hurt. The way it burns all around your mind, filling each thought with even more pain. It aches so much that you can almost feel every little brain cell turning and turning around searching for a place inside your head where this pain ceases to exist. But you cried too many tears and there is no place for them to escape the excruciating pain. The ache stays till you finally decide to fall asleep and enter the endless world of your own mind, where maybe, but just maybe, you might be treated a little better.



I wish I could write a book. I wish could write down all the ideas and thoughts that on daily basis excitedly jump around in my head and asked to be written down.
And then I always get afraid. Afraid that I might forget one great idea and simply not be able to think about it again.

Why don't I just do it, I tell myself right now.


One more thing

It really is fucked up, the world we live in.

My head

I miss you, how are you? I hope everything's well. I somehow feel like being in your arms once again, before all of this happened. I know its a selfish thought, but its also completely unrealistic and slightly sickening; not because of you but because of what I have done to myself and my morals. She is right after all. I am only hurting myself, mutilating my own self respect, if it even exists.

I wish there was someone who could truly understand, maybe you were the only one.