I have never felt like I belonged anywhere.

Tuesday, November 19



I swear I just want to leave this place, when I say that, believe me there's never a second thought that even crossed my mind. But when I asked back myself "where to", I would gave a long sigh to my life. I never once felt like I belong to any place. The word "belonging" does not resonate anything within me. Why. Why is it that all I remember is the sadness. The loneliness. That feeling where you feel "out of place", that something isn't right.

Is this all some kind of sick joke?

I feel alone.

I feel sad.

I feel tired, and I don't even have the energy to cry anymore.

I don't even know how I get out of bed in the morning. Maybe it's that minuscule part within me, that microscopic portion of hope that you would have to search harder than finding a needle in a haystack. That maybe, just maybe, there is something worth it at the end of all this. But also maybe that there isn't. How long more can I lie to myself? How long more can I believe this bullshit that I tell myself everyday? 

I wake to sleep. 

I sleep to dream. 

I dream to hope. 

I hope to live. 

I live to die.

To die. 

Alone and unnoticed, like every step of my life. At the end of it all, we return to nothing. And we can keep telling ourselves the lie that maybe there's a heaven out there, or take the cold harsh truth that everything just is. Nothing matters. So why bother belonging?

I ask myself everyday.

Why.

I purposely isolate myself from everything. And I dont expect anything in a return, because I think I will be good all by myself. Then I'll start to built a new town in my mind, to make myself feel better. I just want to pack my things and leave this place, alone.  

I want to move to a small apartment by myself in a new city and I want to decide which furniture I want and what I want for dinner and whether or not I want to stay out all night and I want to travel and meet new people and fall in love and go have my own adventures because I’m sick of this washed-up place filled with annoying people.

There will be glass floor emerged as a way to visually interconnect the different spaces. It makes the living room feel twice as tall, and from the inside of the apartment on either floor I can look up and see the sky. At night I will lay on the sofa-bed stargazing and night-sky-watching, alone.  

And a veranda with figs growing over it and there would be a field of sunflowers at the bottom of the garden and a little town on the the hill in the distance and I'd sit outside in the evening and drink my favorite tea and smoke gauloises cigarettes and watch the sun go down while writing on my journal.

I swear I cant wait until that day.