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loneliness.

Christmas 2k7 but a day like any other x-any of those days that you take note of any dust in the chamber can Zerebralmasse our head. How is this so when almost no family atmosphere has more available, because the so-called members have over the years, scattered in all directions (including underground), which can perhaps imagine one or the other. Maybe not. I do not care.
In any event, it really depressing to sit at the end of the evening in a bar, even if it is conducted by one of the only two people related to a truly in his heart, and with a glass of Southern Comfort to fall in the annual year-retrospective melancholy.

Here are some thoughts that only limited, but ultimately not nearly , with my current thoughts are related. This is more of a bunch of words that burned me a long time for the soul.

The glass in front of me, where I can watch as the ice melts. So slowly the time passes. I see the people around me, their faces tell me anything, they are just empty shells of a soul that is trapped by its own consciousness. They laugh and dance, as she kept on nothing earthly, they are all it takes by itself
The icy wind during which the Streets outside the window, he is so still and yet alive. So deadly and yet pleasant. Everything seems to stand still, my thoughts are so many things that I lose track of the perspective, just as his grip and posture. Images here, there words, Faccetten and pattern of a world without questions, without worry and doubt. This is the dream. But this is not a dream.

Suddenly, the deepest and most heartfelt pain, a burning, a cutting and tearing. What happened here? I am powerless against all this? And I myself come for the sole answer. No, I'm not. I am me and I have my own heart that no one should ever treat Sun
... and yet they do. So what? Die? Nein.

There's a sense of longing in me
As I read Rosemary's letter
Her writing's honest
Can't forget the years she's lost

In isolation
She talks about her love
And as I read
"I'll die alone"
I know she was aching

There's a certain detail seen here
The pen must have slipped to the side
And left a stain
Next to his name
She knew he was gone

And isolation
Is all that would remain
"The wound in me is pouring out
To rest on a lover's shore"

Opeth - Isolation Years

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redemption.

Day 8

If one day with the eyes of an experienced suffering from sleep deprivation, to set fixed faszinierdene things. For example, I take my true environment much more intense, especially the sun on a day like today and the blue of the sky, which seems almost unreal. So we walked around a bit and thinking, free / head, then it's just so beautiful, the cold of the wind, while feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. An infinite variety of moods at the same time seem the way to look into the heart and to find.

"In the hearts of the people sitting diegleichen feelings. It just depends on, get up some. "( Sophie Klein )



day X

Today's doctor visit was a relief for me. I have paid more or less my last 10 € to years of my free fear of being. Now that I've finally done all my courage together to increase and to go there, I think of Mount Everest is off my mind. And I'm sher proud of myself for having done it.

But the next ( literal) examination is waiting. One of many that will follow. falling through is not an option.

know what to do with the so far very nice day? "I do not know yet. Spontaneously be developed into a real skill with me. And I have so far never looked back.



Finally, a riddle: Who is just incredibly happy about current events?

Right. I do.

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a little awkward.

actually walk me great. For various reasons, as always. I am a bit shizophren however, and despite all the beautiful things can not drive out the bad thoughts out of my head, that's me all too well. Likewise, I think way too much and probably better off sometimes even my head, turn a little bit of selfishness and my heart in the here and now should be on.

Briefly, ie, in the foreseeable future, will change everything in my life just fundamentally. In every respect, school, friends, etc.
At this event, I look with excitement, fear, anticipation and great expectations. I am of the opinion that the changes do everyone good. Of course, it is important here, on what it is in changing, that's logical, but an occasional breath of fresh air has to life young:)

Short self-analysis

when I think about how quickly the years go by how much I'm attached to things, how much I'll let her go ... then I get the impression of a relatively self-fulfilling School. Certainly, it would still have gone better, but so did worse. I call my friends and wonderful people have a separate, independent, headstrong personality. All that I was not before. I have my own way of seeing things to understand and do, have my own style, my own views and definitely my own mind. Meanwhile, I think I've earned a bit of luck sometimes, no matter which look like this is. The future will show.

Anyway, I'm glad in many ways, that they are worked out as they came. And memories I will take away one ever.

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Almost over ...

No, no one has to realize a meaning in the following entry. There are only scraps of thought. Nothing else.

It goes so fast. Today is the 12th December. December . Seems to me, as it were flying past me at the time and I would just listless beside it, motionless, stunned.
This year flew by, all that has happened seems to have happened only yesterday, perhaps the day before. Everything went by so fast as it came. Few things remained constant. At least as far as my humble self.
I think too much, eat too much, drink too much thinking, still too much, and do so little. Too little could say.
I lose the objectives of the Eyes. Put me new, lose sight of this and eventually the mind. I thought
smash, only to merge at the next opportunity. And it's always so depressing to start from zero.
I am so confused in my head, lost in thought me the cold winter wind blows through the day. And once again draws the life pass me by. Is it just a phase? A fall in the final stage of depression? Or is it the daring attempt of the here and above all to escape now, into a somewhere and some point? Somewhere, sometime I'll find out probably.
My body hurts. I feel sick, I still pervades life and passion. That being there is the meaning of life itself The way I think , I write. But I joints, or I exaggerate?