Feelings
by littlesarahbigworld
Sometimes I have too many feelings, Friends. Just all of the fucking feelings, like a bowl full of volatile liquid lodged behind my sternum, bumping up against my bruised and beating heart.
Dramatic, I know, but it really feels like that. And I really am that dramatic, too, so…
Times like this I find myself wanting to isolate, to be alone. To come and go just as I please–not planning anything and not being held too tightly to my word. Because who knows how I may feel in the moment? I am fickle as fuck, and erratic, and tired. And I want to be good to myself right now, to put my own well-being before my obligations.
Add “selfish” to that list of core characteristics, I guess.
It’s just that…
There are a lot, a lot of people in the world, each with their own problems, struggles, hopes, and worries. Some days I swear I can feel them all, feel their need and their ache, pressing in on me through my thin-as-tissue skin.
“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation” (Henry David Thoreau), and I bruise easily.
I want simplicity, to take a step back. I want to stay home, read books, play music, write on paper, go to the coffee shop, type on my laptop. Have a nap. Go for a long run. Follow my moods and my inspiration, and if anyone wants to join me, they’re welcome, of course.
But I won’t change my plans for them, and when they invite me out and about, I should say “maybe,” instead of saying “yes” and then later having to say “I’m sorry.”
I have been so filled up with “I’m sorry”s of late, and I can’t apologize anymore, because what I am doing is not meant to hurt anyone.
What I am doing is trying my very best to figure it out. Just like you, and them, and all the other masses of men.
little sarah Big World 
Ditto, dear friend. Ditto.
This is why it’s good to have a simple walk up South Temple at six on a Sunday. Just sayin’.
Reblogged this on confessions of an owl and commented:
really heart felt feelings
I totally agree with you.
I think we are all just trying our best. I try to remember that when people make me crazy–that they are just doing the best they know how. Except sometimes I suspect they’re really just doing the best they know how to make me crazy.
People around us will always make us crazy but the thing is they can’t break us into infinite pieces every time. But it’s time to make a choice. I feel that this life and humans in particular are making me miserable. I am always trying to escape. But now i think i need space of my own, a life of my own which is more important .
I wonder why we are hurt more than it should really be!