it's like forgetting the words to your favorite song // ancient bruises

I have a great connection with this scene from Frances Ha. I hope this doesn’t last for too long, because it’s making me sad. David Bowie’s Modern Love is playing in the background; it’s lively and fun but right now it’s just pure agony. It’s when you’re walking at street with brightly colored lampposts above you, and it looks like you’re in this movie wherein your character doesn’t know where to go.

That’s currently me.

People scare me now. I can’t even get out of bed without having weird fits of crying for twenty minutes, with the thought of walking to school stabbing me in the head. It’s a strong itch, and you can’t simply put it off by scratching it because nothing ever works when you’re too sad to deal with things, and school, mostly.

School has been dragging my ass for a complete month now, and I can definitely say that academic therapy is not working for me. Not like it used to work for me, but having a shitload of requirements can’t even faze me from having these thoughts. And feelings. I’ve never been so insecure in my life. Facing people and talking to them seems to be the hardest fucking job now. Even pulling the door open to our room makes me shiver and nervous.

I’m not overreacting when I say it’s hard. It’s fucking hard. And I shouldn’t let this get to me, but even the prettiest Regina Spektor song won’t work. I tried it while waiting for class; it made me cry even harder because I realized I looked stupid, sitting on one of the benches beside the lockers. I always imagine myself as this girl from a low-budget, coming-of-age movie with a great, slow soundtrack whenever I’m in one of those situations. But now it’s just pure suffocation Real Emotion™.

I don’t know how long will this last, but it’s starting to feel like for fucking ever.

I’m watching everyone go on with their lives as I stand at the back of the room. I don’t wish to be part of that crowd. But I wish the person I’m expecting to be there is… actually there.

It used to be easy; now it seems impossible. Sad isn't even the right word. I can't put my finger on it, but the word is next-level, no-holds-barred kind of sad. The kind of sad that makes you fall silent when you're in the middle of doing something. Because whatever you do, wherever you are, you can't just shake it off, because it's in you. 

I've had nightmares about being abused and chased around a city, nightmares about being eaten by spiders; the kinds that you see in horror and/or crime flicks. They're scary. But I had one particular nightmare about this person. Can't really tell what this person did because I don't remember, but it really scared me because I felt empty while dreaming; I had goosebumps when I woke up and cried. 

It's so hard to be 18 and hollow. 

I had this weird urge last week to ride the train to Cubao, just because. I had the time and money, and being in transit felt like the only escape for me. I've come to realize that train rides are therapeutic. I guess it's those movie scenes I've seen growing up. It's this long, metallic tube that could take you places in minutes, and lets you meet a thousand different people in just a matter of minutes. 

It's amazing how a train ride could change a person's plan for the day. You ride the train in the morning and suddenly the sunrise makes you feel able. You ride the train in the evening and all the city lights make you wonder and miss everything, everyone. It's all perspective. Kinda like a placebo effect taking all over us, because we always think the other way around. We always think that a train ride or a bus ride means something. Or is it just me? 

I've been thinking about good things and the possibility that those good things might just happen. But it never does, because I always miss the chance. And there's always someone who's going to be the first to take it away from you. So you sit there in silence and stare off into empty space.

And that might just make you want to ride the train. Forever. 

I don't know if there really is a light that never goes out. I just want this all to be over soon, because I'm running out of breath. The three of us are running out of breath.