Venting An insane feeling of banality in all things

[shelaysdown]

The things that everyone tells me are important and matter, etc etc, feel hollow.
I wake each morning not knowing how to fill my time - something didn't quite click within my cotton ball brain when I was born and now nothing feels of substance.
I wander up and down hills and loop back into myself
and the whole time I'm aware I'm not in the world, I'm in my mind, I only see the inner walls of myself projected in horrible patterns and textures
rushing behind my eyes, steady and lethal, trainlike
I wish I could step into that significance like everyone else seems to but I can't fit my grotesque skull within that box
I can't contort my slowly-bent bones into that shape
sleep the clock out, it makes no difference
I love you.

 

[Pale_Rider]

I like the "feel hollow" part best.

 

[PrettyWhiteFlower]

Wow, you've taken a shitty situation I'm very familiar with and somehow made it sound kinda beautiful. You have a way with words that I'm jealous of

 

[Unbearable Mr. Bear]

Basically, we don't perceive the world like it "should" be perceived. We don't see value on what most would see value. What we value is almost out of this world, inside our minds or perhaps in a dimension that is there but invisible. It's like we jumped dimensions, are on another timeline or multiverse, and what we hold as dear is suddenly nothing, and we should just fit in with the rest.

I feel like an alien in this world. Nothing makes sense sometimes. Nothing feels like it has purpose. It's so strange.

Maybe if I was an actual bear, I would have more of a purpose, heheh...

 

[s00ngone]

"Cotton-ball brain" is a good one. I often describe myself as a scarecrow, all straw and stuffing with no blood and no brain. A perpetual posturer. A silhouette of somebody. Hate to relate but glad we agree.