Its hard feeling disconnected, feeling unable to replace the pieces that have been torn apart. Although they are not necessarily torn, or broken, they are bent. They are bent like me, like my brain, like my heart, like my soul, like the bones in my back that have never healed, like the pain in my neck when I lay still in bed.

Finding a solution to a problem isn’t always the best option, but feeling confident is.
I wonder how famous people feel when they realize the only obstacles they have ever had to accomplish were:

1. Reaching fame some how

2. What the general population thinks of their latest scandal

I wonder how my mom still think she’s the greatest person on earth when she isn’t really capable of understanding how I feel, or understanding anything in the realm that doesn’t involve her.

I wonder how my father can be single for 17 years now and never really looked at anyone else, I wonder why he is so reserved, why I’ve never met his friends, why I always question where he is or if he really loves me.

I wonder why the boy I love lays silent when we argue, but jumps to spend quality time with the neighbor downstairs, I wonder why we aren’t how we used to be, why he doesn’t notice when I’m sad anymore. I wonder where the spark in his eyes went. Maybe it was left in New Mexico.
My best friend is detached, and I’m trying trying trying to be there for her. But what do you do when someone is too absorbed in believing things about themselves that it is impossible to help them, impossible to make them feel any better about themselves. 

I spend too much money on drug-store nail polish just to pick it off my nails 4 hours later. I would be writing but there’s no pen in this apartment. The only pen I owned has disappeared. But spending my money on pens doesn’t really seem ideal.

I hate the taste of thick dense beer because it makes my chest clench up. I’m tired of people telling me I need to not be so picky, or “close-minded.”

I hate the word close-minded

I don’t like thick beer because it hurts my chest

Just the same way I don’t like boys who break hearts

But I don’t like girls who break hearts either

and I’m… Well I’m a heartbreaker

So I guess I should add my name on the list of all the people who hate me because that makes sense right? Instead of being a hypocrite, maybe

I kinda lost my train of thought

and now here I am

feeling disconnected, 

from life,

from friends, 

from me.

I am uncomfortable