𝐓𝐡𝐞 “𝐎𝐝𝐝” 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠—

Somewhere, somehow, something... All the questions, hurt, overthinking, and pain— it'll all end. Because... Tomorrow's a new day. And that's what keeps me going.

Sunday: Sonntag.

||Journal entry—

Inhaling each time I exhale, I somehow still hold my breath. Although I'm confident in myself, I have the circus in my ear. I still am...okay. I’m on a journey unlike any other—riding a wave of past literature passions and building new relationships every day.

In a very narrow sense, I feel 'seen' more than ever. But it's not through that I have seen-there's not really much there to see. I have been taken by storm every day. Yet I do not want to be too obtuse because that would jeopardize my journey.

As well as terrified, I'm also unafraid. I'm happy, as well as sad. I'm privileged, even if I'm rebellious. Pushing the envelope, stomping on the tip of my toes... I know I'm rebellious, but I don't know what to call it.

Each conversation should be open-ended; but I do not want to overdo it. Round Robin circles... I can't escape the circus. It's up there and it's loud. No romanticization here; just the truth.

There's a good chance I won't do another Sunday entry. That's okay. Nothing is ever going to be the same and nothing will ever be different --but still the same. So let me leave this entry open ended. I'm leaving it up to My Future self to interpret.

hitsujiotoko_xx

The hug became a cure. Not only a hug, but medicine. Not just medical treatment, but healing. More than healing, but needed. They never let go. Even when they are apart.

“When— Where can I find that?” She asked.

“Find what?”

“That.” She extended her arm pointing to the two people embracing.

“It’ll find you.” It answered.

Her arm sank back to her side. Her eyes were clouded with envious tears; maybe not so much envious tears as sadness. 'When will it find me?'

She hadn't asked out loud, but it heard her. “Be patient.” It answered.

I need to keep my joy in mind when I write or alter. I've let my thoughts to fool me.

I've let my imagination to make me into a frightening devil. How clichéd. How depressing of me.

My scowl widens as I pick up the pen. I'm disoriented inside of myself and yearn to meet someone great. I feel renewed when they hear me speak.

What...if no one answers the call? Am I destined to roam the earth by myself? No.

I'll take my own call. I'll turn off my thoughts so I may continue to be content. Because happiness is now a decision. My decision.

—Angie💋

These are the hours. The hours, the minutes, the seconds. And the mind? Brutal.

And if I missed you more... bitte komm zurück.

whatever was left, that was ours for a while.

sunrise - louise glück

I have to have faith in myself. I must have something absurd and irrational to cling to. Stupid and silly, yet I fully comprehend it. I'm destroying myself with worry about the future. I'm exhausting myself thinking about the past. in the present? Standing here, unsure of myself. Walking while blind... It's almost as if I'm a wind-up toy with a purpose. Would I hear myself if I shouted?

Not the rose petal anymore. Just a leaf. By my own thoughts, I have been crushed and malfunctioning. Suffocated and plagued by oneself. I'm no longer disillusioned, but instead having mental dizziness. In my head stewing. Then halt. Then halt. Yet how? Breathe. Exhale and inhale. The day will be new tomorrow. I've come this far, and I'm confident that I can continue.

No extravagant words. No description. I just feel confused and lost. Maybe that's a good thing. I'll find my way back somehow... Some way.

The weekend—