Spilling

It's been a while again. I have spent the last two days making origami cranes and I've hung eighteen from my ceiling and have taken to blowing air at them to make them fly around each other.
I'm having... trouble. I have spent the last near enough two weeks in bed. Well nearly in bed. I have moved through the house like a ghost only really surfacing to see a friendly face someone who kinda reaches into me and drags me out of this little cage I've put myself in. Last week my mom had the week off, which meant she saw the day to day routine, of going to bed late, waking up at half one, getting dressed at five, sitting, doing nothing, surviving, breathing. I have filled my time with paper folding, I haven't raged and ranted and cried my bleeding heart out. I've sat. And filled myself with nothing because now I think I really know what loss is.
I am feeling so lost. Just adrift in a sea of women drama and women chaos and women words. I think the gravity of it all has finally sunk into me and I hurt. I ache in a place I've never ached before. Something that doesn't surface, it just seems to bury deeper and deeper and this self isolation is beginning to consume me.
I'm glad of one thing out of all of this, there is someone actively there, I get at least a text message every day, she drags me out of the house and for a few hours its like there's a hand on the wound and the pain stops pouring out of me. I feel fucked up and used beyond recognition.
I'm completely exhausted, I'm not eating right, I'm not sleeping properly and I know exactly what I should be doing, I should be pulling myself together, I just.... lack the strength anymore.
I am not wallowing, I'm occupying my mind with a lack of thought, there's this big mental block, I refuse to think anymore, I just exist as a body with a mind inside it.
Have you ever felt like, the universe was saying one thing and one thing alone to you? Its not laughing at you, there is no conspiracy against you, your completely rational and logical, but everything that happens around you is separate from you so you become like this particle drifting along in an ocean because there's nothing left to worry about or think about or get upset about or get paranoid about or stress about and actually because your so wrapped up in yourself, if anything did happen it would just glance off you like water off a ducks back. And that one thing is only this: Welcome to your life. You've always been living it, but never really paying that much attention because your so good at surrounding yourself with people that make drama to entertain themselves because they have nothing else in life. So welcome to your life.
Maybe I've got this chance to better myself now. Maybe I've got this massive opportunity to sit back and become that recluse I've always predicted I'd become. I'm not waiting for anything anymore. I'm not waiting for life to start with someone. Because suddenly it feels like I've got my life back, its not dictated by someone, its not someone elses business all the time, its like I have myself back.
But oddly. As beautiful as this revelation is, I know one thing: I am not alright. But I will be.
I have not fallen into a drunken whirlwind of one night stands and making an ass of myself. I will be alright and not for anybody else's benefit. I will be alright for me. I will answer to me. I will not be owned or belong to anyone. I will not be someones play thing, or just this person to get attention of when someone elses is lonely.
I'm bitter. I'm cynical. I've accepted this. I'm angry. Very angry. So much so that one day I believe I will breathe fire and smoke will come out of my ears because all of it. Letting go has never been an issue for me. Accepting things are gone also not an issue. Accepting what people have done is an issue. I see no karma or justification for it. But someday. It will happen, whether or not I'm there to see it.
I'm not talking to anyone today because the people around me, or at least most of them wouldn't listen, and if they did it would be to indulge me and then complain about it later. Or they would expect something profound and unsettling to spring forth. There is one thing I've never taken into consideration, every day of my life I've tried to relate to people, tried to talk, tried to listen, tried to get just one person on this earth to understand even a little bit of who I am, sure they get the surface, they get the mannerisms they get the strange sense of humour and the bizzarity. But they never get me. They never see whats under the surface, they pretend, they really do, but here's the thing, the ultimate cruncher that is destined to change my view of 'people' forever and a day: Nobody will ever understand me, like I do.
Its impossible for anyone to understand the intricate detail of every emotion and reaction because they don't feel the way you do. So why trust someone with that detail? Why trust someone to take a peak inside and see what your made of? I will never make that mistake again.
Sure it is a mistake really to put all of this here, because it is so personal and so public at the same time. And sure really this is a pile of self indulgent crap anyway and nobody cares.
Its wrong in fact because if a certain person reads this I'd get it in the neck because this is how I feel and god me i'm not allowed to have a broad spectrum of emotion. But the thing is, this is just a computer screen to me, these are just words, what you make of them is different to what I make of them. And really how I depict my emotion is as good as fiction to you anyway.