Sitting On My Bed; at 12AM

After 30 minutes of tossing and turning around my bed, I got up. Feeling hot and humid I stood up walk off this itch I felt. This icky disgusting and agitating feeling that lay on the pit of my stomach till the tip of my now thumping head. No longer did I think of how my currently incredibly short hair has irritated me these past few hours, thanks to the broken down AC of my humid room, I thought of what really is bothering me. Was it the sudden loneliness I felt, the feeling I now have dragged on and yet gone through a roller coaster ride that I have ridden to this very moment since the summer. Was it the irritation of my parents that never really got me? Or was it something else? Whatever it is, it has grabbed me on not only mentally but physically. I do not doubt that it will soon bother and poke around the stand I have in my own spiritual balance and beliefs.

These days I’ve spent smiling and thanking everything that is around me. My oh-so-weird friends of mine, my oh-so-annoying family and the oh-so-dreadful tear I have recently caused in my heart. Waking up everyday seems like a miracle, getting out of bed sometimes makes me feel so great to be alive and well. Other times I wish the sun would just bugger off and mind its own business elsewhere, anywhere but where I was lying. Not truly understanding this mood swings that has no physical basis what so ever, I simply shrug it off and do whatever I have planned for the day. The thing is I can’t stand it any longer. It has finally comes down to this. Either I force myself in being all happy all day, or I have to find some reason in my own behavior. I’m restless. I’m confused. I’m agitated to the point where I just might pull of all of what is left of my hair. Unlike most of my days, spending time with my friends and family, or shopping till the soles on my feet can no longer carry on, or even a day of relaxation and enjoyment can only bring me up for a short period of time. A momentary high.

Oh, how I long to be normal again. Then again, when have I ever been normal? It seems to me that I was not created to be categorized as such but to be bizarre, indifferent and unique. Have you ever been awake one of those nights and feel totally breathless and feel as if someone or something is out to get you, and your running out of time? These so called “abrupt realization” has occurred to me once or twice. I would suddenly jolt out of bed into a sitting position breathing heavily, throat dry, eyes wide, heart beating fast, terrified, paranoid, scared and no one there in the room; but me. I never really understood why I was so scared or why I felt as if time was running out on me. All I knew was that my sisters heard me screaming from next door and my older brother heard me crying. I never really remembered what I was dreaming about. I felt my life was perfectly fine. Until… my silly adolescent upbringing pushed me towards something totally neurotic and moronic to the point in which we all get blinded and driven into a bliss which in the end we would end up flat on the floor with nothing but a shattered heart and a sparkle of what can only be called hope; something we all like to call, love.