i finally wrote something after a day of rotting

Maybe there is something wrong with me that only I can find out about– if only I did know… I am selfish sometimes I suppose; I’ve never really put a thought into it before today, but maybe I am, and maybe that’s why I feel everything far more intensely than I should. Maybe it is right that I’m an emotionless person, specifically because I only know my feelings and I’m essentially blinded by them so much to the point that I can’t get past them and pay attention to the world and its people than stand before me. 

I wish I weren’t like that, and I’ve tried changing for years, I swear, but I’m not sure of the progress– it’s true, my life isn’t always like this, but theses rough patches seem to appear without any reason. I feel dragged back into this dirt, but I think I’m just throwing myself in at this point because as far as I can see, this is the only thing that I yearn for and it works out– I find comfort in filth, even if I tried staying clean for the longest. I disgust myself.

This indefinite emotion, if I can call it that, comes in waves and I’m afraid that I can’t swim. A powerful wave hits me as I was taking a breath– I choke laying in the same ocean, but after a little while I’d pull myself together, but not enough to get out of the water; the tip of my toes barely touch the sand. I never drown completely either, I can’t let myself yet– do I even dream about getting out, or do I wait until I can’t push myself up to the surface of the water anymore?

Rarely I think about just sailing away guided by a star– my star; all would be in vain probably, and I’d sail forever; the star would fade away, run away, and I’d mourn its disappearance more than my own defeat.