Vivo Somnio (vivosomnio) wrote,
Vivo Somnio
vivosomnio

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I haven't been myself in a long time now, it seems. I used to mainly be a happy person, with times of loneliness and the such like anybody else gets.

But lately, it's been the reverse. I feel sad, empty, almost all the time. I get slight reprieve with my friends, but it just doesn't seem to be enough anymore. I find myself wanting to move, yet I love the area too much. I feel that I need to escape, yet nowhere I think of do I feel would suit me.

I've had not drive or motivation to do anything. Haven't looked for a job, don't really care about school, I don't write anymore either. Not here, nor just writing, which is something I used to love to do. And when I do post here, it's when I need to vent a little, and most of my posts are simply angry. I get up, go to school, listen to music and daydream to try and keep my mind off things, I read e-mail, and I sleep. That's pretty much life. And, every once in a while, I'll feel alright.

But that feels to me, to be the opposite of what things should be.

I remember a time when I was actually happy, despite everything.

I look around, and I wonder where that time went.

I need to make a choice between things in my life, but it's simply not that easy. What does one do, when there's a choice like this to be made?

It seems that I feel so hollow and empty anymore. Sometimes things make me feel so incredible that I can't even begin to describe it to you, but it's hard to come by. The times and circumstances in which this happens, in which I get a hold of this feeling are few and far between. Often months in between, weeks at the very best. Whenever it's missing, I feel so much worse than before. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I'm happiest in my life without it at all. When it's been a long time in between, I forget how empty I feel without it, and it doesn't really hurt anymore. I almost begin to feel happy again, because I don't realize what I'm missing out on anymore. And it used to be that when asked if I would choose between being generally happy with life, or having one night as the greatest night of my life and the rest of them paling in comparison, I would always say that I would take the one great night.

And I always meant it.

But now, I'm not so sure. It wears and grates on you, like I imagine a drug addiction would. It's like the person that curses Heroin, yet begs for it and celebrates it's coming. You begin to hate not having that feeling, and you begin hating the circumstances that keeps you from that feeling. I guess it's supposed to be a simple choice, I used to think it was whenever faced with the "one night" question. Yet, I've come to realize, it isn't a simple choice at all.

Especially when the answer isn't the one you like...
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