Second post in one night.
My mind is truly wondering.
2:28am, Monday - July 11th
This morning I spoke to my little sister about the month of July
The month my grandmother, and my sisters father had died. All within the same week as her birthday. Her only wish was for our older sister to attend the event. Unfortunately, we are having no luck with responses.
School is hours away. Something is bewildered underneath my eye lids. The weight of a thousand trucks and as sore as anything I have felt recently. Other than heart breaks, of course.
What is it about this time of the night?
The sound of the city is blasting rapidly through my window. Sirens and street brawls.
I believe I am coming to terms with the realisation that we really do not have a purpose for life. Nothing lasts forever and eventually, we have nothing but our memories. Even though they are taken from us too.
The feathered pillow resting my body feels like my support barrier. I am so overly tired, confused and emotional for all the wrong reasons. I am seventeen. Why am I reading so closely into the difference between living, life and death.
Lately, all these questions have been feeding at my brains. My eternal organs feel as though they are collapsing within me. Body is failing to function. help!
Oh viewers,
I am so so lost ever since I went wandering. Dorothy on the yellow-brick-road. Though my tin man is my brother, the lion is my father and the scare crow I suppose is probably another metaphor for myself.
Is it completely and utterly inappropriate to mention 'fuckboy #7' interrupted my writing. Another sign that this world and I are two completely different planets.
2:58am
Goodnight/morning Discovery Viewers
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