source: kibouteki

It just happens to be one of those days where I find myself so caught up in visuals, concepts and plenty of nostalgia. I've had a hard time trying to figure out a lot of things as of late; so maybe I've been closed off/distant/nonchalant/ whatever floats your boat, but to me; it seems as if I'm witnessing my life passing in third person. The experience is wholly terrifying as well as exhilarating. I can't quite pinpoint how exactly I've become so....out of it. 

These past months have probably seen the bane of my existence. I've had relapses before, but just not as bad. The drowning feeling that consumes one whole is suffocating to the point of being in your face - everywhere you turn, there's a sordid reminder of how wrong everything is, how you're incomplete, how it's the end of the journey for you. I didn't understand how people could ever be happy then. Even though I still find it hard how some people are always joyful, it's not as bad as it was anymore. 

I don't think it was a very common thing to happen among teenagers; more often than none, it felt as if nobody else would understand, that they haven't gone through something so complex at their age. I can't put it into accurate words - but just the saying, "sad" would sum it all up. There were days that I didn't want to go home; couldn't - where I abstained from silence, disappeared for hours and just drowned myself in the noisiest of crowds, leaving questions unanswered - buried in my thoughts. That phase has passed, but I'm thinking it will come back once more; it's never once left me alone. 

Tomorrow, I start work. And I intend to make the most of my holiday by crossing out several top-notch priorities that I've put on hold.