crumpled and tossed
When you're a teenager, seems like being alone is a sin, like wasting daylight, or unproductivity. When I had once enjoyed my solitude, I now feel conscious of life rushing past me, and while I feel like I could get left behind, I have no desire to join the rush.

Its hard for me to believe that if I just stood still, I wouldn't be forgotten. Time is not a friend to adjust to my needs, and nor is it a buffer to my fears of the world around me. Ultimately, its hard to bring together my own desires and this mad rat race of a life.

Soon, I'll be telling everyone that life just isn't my scene, that I'd love to be just a hermit, disappear off this terrible construction of a support system, and live off our happiness being with each other. Empty feelings can be put on the shelf, two-faced people you once trusted with your deepest secrets but couldn't give a fuck about you can go about their mundane lives, because I wouldn't care. I try not to, at least.

The only way I can explain this is that I am, simply, in a rut. In a hole, where holy idles don't visit.