Dream Within a Dream

I’m mentally ill in all my writings.

I don’t know why, but I usually write the most depressing thoughts on paper and when I read them later on in my life I begin to question my sanity.

As a person, if you happen to know me, i’m very cheerful and enthusiastic most of the time. However, my writing says otherwise.

I haven’t written here in three months, and i haven’t written anywhere in two weeks. When I stop writing for more than one week my mind begins to crumble, and all the unsanitary thoughts in my head overwhelm my “cheerful” persona. I end up miserably lamenting life’s greatest losses… (my Criticism doctor, who is a bit theatrical, is affecting my writing skills. God I hate this woman)

Anyway, it was practically impossible to write in the past few months because of all the quizzes and the assignments and the stupid fucked up chores. I can’t deny that I have the time to write, but I don’t have the will… I made about a hundred draft for so many things I want to write about, but i can’t find the will in me to actually start writing them. I’m becoming one of those humans who would rather “sleep” instead.

This sounds terrible but the fact that I manage to make up gruesome sentences about life and sardonic comments about death in my head, makes everything little less terrible. I don’t even know why am I writing this now, but I thought its about time to end this stupid hibernation of mine.

To recap the past few months, it was basically studying, presentations, and student activity. Studying is, as usual, suspiciously all over the place. Presentations are great. Student activity is okay. I had more expectations to be honest, but i was satisfied when people complimented my presentation skills (because i’m a PR member this year).

I haven’t been in an adventure since forever and i think i’m losing the lust to go on one.

Here is something I want to remember but no one else will understand: I wrote about you indeed and I’m glad I’m finally allowing myself to do so.

I’m an expert when it comes to writing about ghastly, dreadful subjects, but I never wrote about, say for instance, love. It doesn’t feel right writing about such things and I need to fix it. It’s like i’m fixing my emotional traumas one by one and I think its about time to get over myself and write about it.

I’m getting better, but like i said, i’m mentally ill in most of my writings. I speak of worms, wars, asylums, societal dilemmas, rape, and alternative universes, but I never speak of love in my writing. It’s usually a sub theme though, but I find it hard to explain my actual, real feelings (non-fiction) in my writings.

I hope I find the right way to express this, and I hope i find the will to write every day or every week more than once. I’m terribly tired and I lack energy nowadays, but i’m going to start again. I’m going to start abusing my system and check most of the things off my “to do” list.

(Next month i’m joining Choreography workshop. I hope this makes a difference to my hibernation.)


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