Moon's high, light's low.
I'm sitting in my bed and thinking. About things. I've been doing a lot of sitting and thinking lately. Almost all the time my mind wanders off into space, and my heart starts sinking deeper and deeper into a void. This void, this blackness of a cavern. Funny enough, I know what it is and where it came from.
I ask myself the same question everyday, over and over, until it hurts to even mentally mouth the words: Why am I here in this messed up world? What have I done (or not done) to be forced to internalise so much pain and injustice? How can people live as though they belong when they've done so many others wrong? And most importantly, am I overthinking this yet again?
There was a point in time where I had so much hope in me my eyes gleamed. My blood burned bright red and my veins lit up like fireworks. Every single day, I felt like an infinite surge of electricity was coursing through me and that anything that I touched would glow in perfection. And even for my standards, things did glow. But after all the confetti and champagne after the euphoria, who stays to see what's left of the room?
All I know is, after a high there will always be a low. It's a confusing time because I shuffle between contentment and anxiousness while I try to push through each day. Everyday I walk the streets with no flame in my eyes. Gone was the head full of passion, drifted away with the autumn leaves, buried in the winter cold.
And now, my eyes are heavy.
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