Words are my curse
I wish it was being a workaholic
Or a tidying maniac
A crazy mathematician
Or a flawless cook
But I have to do something with my own
I wish I worked writing letters for people like in Her
I wish I was the lucky gal who happened to hung out with musicians and found a voice and now is a singer in a big band like the red hot chilli peppers
I guess I finally have reasons to pour them out now
I could be feeling way worse
But in my actions I can tell I am far from okay
This evening I woke up scared of how unokay I am
I guess now that having the tranquility of money, a roof and a job that doesn't exactly tear me apart is enough
And it is
But I am again at the point of dying inside
Because it's not enough distraction anymore
I'm looking to be distracted again
And I wish I was one of those people who could be okay with the basic things that I've got now
But it is a haunting thing that hurts my heart that tells me I must only do what makes me happy
As if it was the center of my wellbeing
In time to blow the candles of my birthday cake everyone around me shouted ideas of wishes like
A legal job
A job with free weekends
An apartment
Medical insurance
Money to have my mother over
And when I finally blew them I didn't have to think or consider anything else
"To be happy with that I do"
Is all that was in my head
So, again, I'm quitting distractions now
As much as I can
To hop on that blind horse again
This cycle is the most draining thing I've ever been through
If I think about it it has lasted more than half my life
Somehow I remain hopeful that one day I'll look back
And cry every time I read an entry like this
Knowing it was worth the chase
The only way I could die is chasing
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