I cleaned the shit out of my room today and it still is not perfect, the way I would imagine the goal of my perfection. This is a metaphor. When my life is in shambles and a mess, that is my room. A mess. Shit just laying around everywhere...it's gross. This does not change for along time. Something I have a burst of cleaning my room, today was a day like that. This is me tidying my head. I am not done my room...there are still things scattered on the ground, sitting, dusty on my shelves. Stuff which I have banned to corners of my room as to not be noticed by people. This is a metaphor for my head. Because as it stands at this very moment, I feel alright. I can breathe without fear of getting that feeling that my breath has stopped. I can somewhat think of tomorrow without shedding a tear and having a tightness in my chest. This is the feeling I would like to achieve for the rest of my life, and maybe I am on my way.
I hit a rough patch again last night. The night scares me, especially when it begins to get dark, I feel as though day will never come again...and then I remember that I only have day and night to look forward to. That's the rest of my life. Falling asleep scared me as well. I don't know why. I don't understand these feelings.
i'm out,
- Lauren xox
