go away, past. just.. go.

It's great when you realize your own happiness. Apparently I need proof for everything.
I've just looked over some older LiveJournal entries and realized how far I've come.
The things I did to myself and the things I let people do to me.. maaaan. I'm not blaming them, I'm blaming myself for putting myself through it. The amount of abuse I've taken from people and how much of that abuse I've turned onto myself. It's frightening I'm still alive, it really is.

And compared to how I've been since 2007, I can honestly say I have improved. I'm happier, things seem to be going much more smoother. Sure there's kinks to work out but I don't have all of those extra variables to worry about, at ALL.

I know we've had conversations over this, and now I understand why you feel the need to be there for me as much as you are. Even though you feel the need to tell me why every time we drink together, I actually get it now. I store these things away and forget the way I've felt, apparently I focus more on the now, but wow.

I'm so glad I've grown past that, I'm so glad I don't live with those people. The people they've become is much better than the people they were.

I need to stop reading this shit, it's scary.

seasons always shift too late

How many blogs does it take to ease my thoughts?
I feel like I have some explaining to do. Because I feel like people think I'm this depressing bubble just waiting to burst.
No.
I am who I am. And I am this way because of the way I think and the way I feel, because I think and feel more than is good for me (.. and just saying that makes me want to clarify that, for the record, it's society's fault I feel bad about thinking and feeling too much).
But the dark, depressing entries.. the conversations and debates and music.. it isn't just black and white. We are not either happy people or sad people. I hope we've evolved to more complex emotions since kindergarten.

I listen to the kind of music I do because it soothes me. I can sit here and relax and feel connected to people through music. I crave that connection, that understanding. Even if I have never or will never meet the people behind the words, it's settling listening to people reach in and pull out their insides and slap it onto paper. Just pure, raw emotion that I've come across and can ENJOY. That's right, enjoy. My music may be softer than yours but I get enjoyment out of it. I don't sit here and cry myself to sleep every night.
I sit inside my head with these make-believe friends of mine and we tell each other everything.

We can skip the entire transition of normal conversation to deep conversation, pass the judgment and questioning of trust. It's much simpler. I'm not interested in physical beings, just the mental ghosts they've left behind.

all i want for christmas is linear thought

Today is a copy of a copy. Fill it up any possible way, build me up only to feel the pressure. Is it possible to enjoy yourself while feeling under constant pressure? I'm not used to this time, this person.
I've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and have your days melt into an unrecognizable puddle of people and thoughts. I no longer float above my body, begging to be apart of it in any way. I am this body and I can finally move.
My joints aren't a bother, I no longer despise the connection of my limbs, the movement of my legs, the ungraceful turn of a corner. I can finally say that these thoughts have become almost insignificant.
Today is another day of figuring out whether I'm allowing progression or mentally dissipating.