I smash the phone on the stupid wall, I grab my head, and weep neurotically for 5 minutes, then i get back up. walk, sit, walk again.. look at pictures, read news, look at my open books, remember the slum i’m in, I feel my legs cramping, my fingers contracting, I lay my head on that wall, that I hate so much, I wish I can die, the I feel stupid, I feel weak, I feel so fucking caged in this 4×3 room/cell. I hate the walls, I hate the opened books with the words I’m supposed to know, I hate my needy fucked up system.
When did I turn into this neurotic shit, when did I start hiting my to walls, I need to fucking scream, isnt there a place in shit shithole where I can scream.
I feel like a 4 year old child, the same stupid meaningless stuff make me jump off my feet happy, and other stupid small hings can make me weep.
When does it stop, when do I “adapt” to the space, the language, the distance and whats beyond the distance, whats derived from the distance, what prolongs the distance…
Ten days ago, I was happy, I was sad, I was leaving in hours, but I was in peace, I had everything I’d need, I had everything I wanted, I was ready to come back, or so I thought, now I’m back to that same old spot, with the same boring,I might add- repeat of the same fucking routininc neurotic me.
few people back home have seen neurotic me, I didnt need to be, or thats how I see it now. only in extreme situations where I cant do anything except being neurotic… here it seems every single day is an extreme situation, exery single phonecall, every single night, I need to dream about good stuff, I donno who does that, but whatever u are, the son of a bitch upthere that makes dreams, I HATE U. I FUCKING HATE U.
I’m back to the phone, I dial the same number, this time someone answers… we talk,
And exactly like it happens in the movies, when that someone puts his hand on a crazy person, I sit back, quietly.
I hate this me. I hate it, I hate it so much for what its doing, for how he makes me live…
Now, I’m crying, like normal people do.
I promise myself that it will be different tomorrow, I’ll try harder, it’ll be better, at least it’ll be different, I’ll have school all day, I wont have time to be neurotic, but…
[When I posted this, I took a look at my archives, an I realized that I've never felt this way, I was never this helpless. It's shocking, it's fucked. But, That's exactly how it is today, maybe it's just an extra fucked up day... Maybe tomorrow WILL be different...]