via: rawrism

I don't know where to begin. Don't know where to look to. Don't know how to start, or comprehend - my state. My situation. My position or any part of me that I've taken for granted for all my existence. 

I'm weighed down by my inclining load of assignments and I have yet to find time for myself despite having free hours, where I fill myself with worry instead of peace. I find such pretense in living a lie, but I can't seem to place how my life is a lie. 

I'm in no way contented with the structure of things. But then I realize that I'm far too anal and particular about structures, shapes, humans, intuitions and concepts. I just don't understand why I'm such a glutton for wanting to fill myself with a knowledge of being able to understand. 

And yet, my perceptions terrify me. I know nothing, but yet feel so much. Too much. 

People tell me the simplest things are the most beautiful of them all, and I'm beginning to see it. For lack of a description. For lack of being able to do injustice to such an emotion, so much can only be said. I will no longer look down on the most simplest of words.