segregation.

March 10.

Maybe it's all in my head, just like everything else. How much longer should I believe that my head has been in the wrong place with the wrong state of mind for so long, I might never know.

I've been here, now again. I'd claim to be in my own world now, I sometimes would rather have it that way but I'm far from that. Maybe subconsciously trying to push myself into it on purpose when I'm really just struggling to knock some sense into my head of how my feet is getting a bit too high off ground at the moment. My head is barely in the clouds; I'm afraid I might just push myself up. Find me dancing in the rain, hanging myself off a tree. You're either present in reality or is stuck in your own head; a world full of your own fantasy or sick distorted wormhole - but I am in between. I am the wall that separates it both, careful not to let any piece of each intertwine. Sadly I've been in both. All at once, it has consume me without the need for me to move in closer.

It's hard, to keep sane once you've realised you're just a bit out of your head. You worry of what would have never crossed your mind as a kid, anything to not get you locked up or thrown away. Everyone's an arm's reach away but too far gone, you're too far gone. To be next to someone, to live everyday to see their face but know that although they are in your life now, you are not in theirs. You're floating away. They don't notice it in your eyes, or in each of your movements, the way you speak, the stares you give. Nothing is physical enough to make them believe that you're no longer you.

When people walk out, it's as if my life is on pause, for when they come home to me again. Though life goes on for them, despite my absence. I keep everyone so close, but I'm held loosely. I'm not one of them. Sometimes it feels like I can never be.

-riri-