.......

My earliest memory of smoking at my window was four years ago, ever since then it has been linked to my world falling apart.
that was the first time i understood that in life anything goes.

I just put out my nth cigarette today, i threw it out my window and the familiar feeling came back. It's so cynical to be more at home with disaster than with happiness.

I am a great girl.
I battle myself and better it. I accept every challenge that comes my way.
I have always fought for what i believed in, even when i believed in the most horrid of things.
Even at the worst version of myself i didn't give up.
I don't know impossible. I was born a fighter.
I try not to judge, i value trying to be humane.
I am fair.

I deserve to be happy, i deserve the simplest joys of life.

And yet somehow i end up at my window, smoking it off; the sensation that the world is crashing all around me. Numb, passive, tired, with energy enough only to light another cigarette, and try to accept that what will be will be.

My head wont leave my head alone.

It's so exhausting being so aware of everything i think and feel. It is so hard being so objective that i can understand insanity. It is so claustrophobic being so emotional yet so mentally aware.

My head wont leave my head alone.

My body aches everywhere, i carry a stone in my stomach, it is a curse being so physically reactive to my mental state.

There is absolutely nothing i can do.

I have done everything right and ended up in the thick of it anyway; I can't move, i can't go, i can't stay, i can't think.

Thrown off my bed into the deep of the ocean.

My head wont leave my head alone.