I am a self-proclaimed emo-child from the 21st century, and while the moodiness have disparate for the most part as I grow, there are times when I'm still pulled back into the dark corners of raw emotions. Strangely enough, it's a warm and comforting feeling. The place where I'm at right now is a very dark, sticky hot environment where I lie motionless, for the most part, and where no part of me has any initiative to do anything. The breath comes in and out very softly through the mouth, shallow and filled with the baterium of the sickness that runs hot through my body. I was feverish for most of last weekend, and have spent most of this weekend in my bed asleep.
I push back the immediate symptoms with medication, so the sniffling, sore throats, mucus and fevers are kept at bay, but my entire system is lethargic. Lifting a finger becomes such a strenuous movement that I'm forced to marvel at the beauty of the movement, and the beauty of my flesh, skin and bones. Somewhere in this half-minded self-examination my thoughts inevitably wander over to a girl.
It's a bad sign when I start writing journal entries about the girls I like. But I'm too tired to fight it, too tired to suppress the mental illness and disconnect with other hearts.
ETA: Just start talking to her, they all say. I wish it was that easy :(
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