If only burr holes could relieve the hypothetical increased intracranial pressure due to severe overthinking.
I spent so much time thinking of ways to solve problems.
Problems of my parents.
Problems of my siblings.
Problems of my beloved confidants.
Problems of mine.
But so little time is spent by the aforementioned beings for the sake of me.
Then one day, I finally asked myself “why bother?”
Sometimes you just need to be left alone.
To find solace in your solitude.
Though your heart tells you it needs relating.
You find yourself at the beach, basking in the sun whilst admiring the waves and the sand in your slippers. Strolling through thinking of the person you’re dying to share this moment with. The person who crosses your mind whenever an event takes place. While the said person wishes for you to not think of him in such manner. Because he feels burdened to be thought of as someone important to you. Because the feelings are simply not mutual. Then you tell yourself that this particular person who has been the subject of all your rants, thoughts, and shit doesn’t even exist in here and now, only in the literary world as a substance of each entry.
I wonder if you know that all this while, you have been the subject of my rants, thoughts, and shit. Well, thoughts mostly though.
I am a 22 year old female who’s introverted to the extent where I’m positive it’s pathological. The end.
“Think of a happy place” was something that was always jokingly said by Tess to herself when we were kids whenever I teasingly said something that’d hurt her kid feelings. I never really thought about the real meaning of it until I became an adult. It doesn’t really make you feel better. It just makes you want to go back to that particular time when everything was swell. Going through hardships countless of times doesn’t make you better at dealing them. There’s no such thing as getting used to it. It only debilitates you, to the point where you don’t even want to deal with it anymore. ‘Cos you’ve lost the will to do anything. The park in the photo doesn’t represent my “happy place”. It just takes me back to that afternoon when I went strolling around the park, enjoying the Fall with Tess, going about how we were lucky to be given the opportunity to visit other parts of the world. Thinking maybe this was the silver lining behind what felt like the longest predicament that was clouding our lives. Just how many clouds do we need to fly through to finally experience infinite happiness?