"I can't explain, you would not understand."
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.
I've been all but completely incapacitated for the last 3 days. I haven't felt like doing anything. I feel so useless. A waste of space. I don't think that has to do with my incapacitation though.
I feel hopelessness. Not the downhearted, discouraged, despair, despondent type of hopeless. I'm talking about real hopelessness. There's a feeling you get when you realize how hopeless your situation really is. There's a kind of solace that comes with knowing nothing you could ever do will matter. A kind of freedom, too, I think.
Nothing I can do will ever truly matter. I can't change a single think I'd like to, and there's no point in changing what I can.
I've always felt a certain affinity towards the bell ringer, though I never thought I'd resemble him. It's depressing.
My back still hurts. I can't walk upright. And I'm a waste of human space. But, that's me and my life. And a person talking about their life is boring to other people who have lives.
I did these yesterday. I think all the pages should be updated with the finished versions of them.
I'm not really sure what to do with these. I have a big stack of these drawings and it would feel weird throwing them away.
Oh, but, on the bright side, I've discovered a new way to quantify pain, like a meter. After the blinding pain, you just measure the amount of drool that leaked from your gritted teeth.
I have become comfortably numb.
I've been all but completely incapacitated for the last 3 days. I haven't felt like doing anything. I feel so useless. A waste of space. I don't think that has to do with my incapacitation though.
I feel hopelessness. Not the downhearted, discouraged, despair, despondent type of hopeless. I'm talking about real hopelessness. There's a feeling you get when you realize how hopeless your situation really is. There's a kind of solace that comes with knowing nothing you could ever do will matter. A kind of freedom, too, I think.
Nothing I can do will ever truly matter. I can't change a single think I'd like to, and there's no point in changing what I can.
I've always felt a certain affinity towards the bell ringer, though I never thought I'd resemble him. It's depressing.
My back still hurts. I can't walk upright. And I'm a waste of human space. But, that's me and my life. And a person talking about their life is boring to other people who have lives.
I did these yesterday. I think all the pages should be updated with the finished versions of them.
I'm not really sure what to do with these. I have a big stack of these drawings and it would feel weird throwing them away.Oh, but, on the bright side, I've discovered a new way to quantify pain, like a meter. After the blinding pain, you just measure the amount of drool that leaked from your gritted teeth.
