05:56 

The Imporance of Being. . . Gestalt

Libita
Infamous Impostor
Procrastinating.
Putting off.
Stalling.

It is inconceivable how much my life depends on the limited right combinations of words; words that once used to flow from my fingers, revealing the depth of my soul - a translucent reflection of my mind. It feels like somewhere along the line I have lost my touch. My ability to feel myself is disappearing, and numbness is taking over my existence.
It is ironic: I used to talk about numbness, and yet, when I look back I realize I knew nothing about it. I was alive, I was. . . myself. Somehow, the reality I am living in is trying to push me into a different direction, where thought and reason prevail over feelings. My soul is being ripped apart, its reflection worn out, bitter. . . stronger. (?)
I know the answers about life, but I forgot how to ask questions. I hope that one of these days is a turning point that will bring myself together: blasé, absorbed, whole.

@настроение: *sigh*

@темы: delusion of possession, coming someday, and so it is, MHP, HDA, C'est la vie

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cognitive dissonance

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