Jumping pajamas
Hey.
So, Onee-san just went back to her IPG after 3 weeks of holidays and baby bro to his hostel yesterday, and I'm just here, basically changing from pajamas to pajamas.
Literally.
Like, I take a bath in the afternoon, change into pajamas, and take a bath again at night, also into pajamas. I just live in pajamas nowadays. And July is rounding up the corner.
I don't know where I'm going with this, nowhere in particular, I think?
I'm just rambling. Bla bla bla bla bla
Normally, this is where I go to speak about my mind.
Honestly? Nowadays there're less thoughts than sounds and screams in there.
Some days, it's good.
Calming sounds. Sweet lullabies. Saccharine peace.
Some days, it's numbing.
Screams of rage. Guttural sound of voice chords being yanked over the voicebox out through the lips. Endless screams without a break of a breath. No voice but my own.
I wonder why I have so much rage up there.
Often when I feel frustrated or sad or disappointed, they crawl around my brain like hide-and-seek and block out every feeling in my body. It's a slow process.
It's usually hours after the cause of my frustration or disappointment or sadness and not right when I am smack dab in the middle of it. It's why it happens most when I'm in bed.
Oddly enough, you would never guess.
Because they all happen in my head, but my body shows no sign of said rage at all. In fact, I'd be cool as a cucumber, just tappin' away at my phone, readin' fluffy Destiel fics on my bed and just, lyin' on my side like nothin's the matter.
But, if you're sharp enough, you'd see how tight the lines I hold in my muscles. My hands curled and nails biting into my palm, resting against my heart. Hiding.
Occasionally, silent tears will fall but you won't see that because I'm facing away.
It's the little ticks that makes the difference.
I'm good at this, alright?
I don't break down smack in front of you. Not unless I can help it.
It's just what happens.
A reflex.
So, Onee-san just went back to her IPG after 3 weeks of holidays and baby bro to his hostel yesterday, and I'm just here, basically changing from pajamas to pajamas.
Literally.
Like, I take a bath in the afternoon, change into pajamas, and take a bath again at night, also into pajamas. I just live in pajamas nowadays. And July is rounding up the corner.
I don't know where I'm going with this, nowhere in particular, I think?
I'm just rambling. Bla bla bla bla bla
Normally, this is where I go to speak about my mind.
Honestly? Nowadays there're less thoughts than sounds and screams in there.
Some days, it's good.
Calming sounds. Sweet lullabies. Saccharine peace.
Some days, it's numbing.
Screams of rage. Guttural sound of voice chords being yanked over the voicebox out through the lips. Endless screams without a break of a breath. No voice but my own.
I wonder why I have so much rage up there.
Often when I feel frustrated or sad or disappointed, they crawl around my brain like hide-and-seek and block out every feeling in my body. It's a slow process.
It's usually hours after the cause of my frustration or disappointment or sadness and not right when I am smack dab in the middle of it. It's why it happens most when I'm in bed.
Oddly enough, you would never guess.
Because they all happen in my head, but my body shows no sign of said rage at all. In fact, I'd be cool as a cucumber, just tappin' away at my phone, readin' fluffy Destiel fics on my bed and just, lyin' on my side like nothin's the matter.
But, if you're sharp enough, you'd see how tight the lines I hold in my muscles. My hands curled and nails biting into my palm, resting against my heart. Hiding.
Occasionally, silent tears will fall but you won't see that because I'm facing away.
It's the little ticks that makes the difference.
I'm good at this, alright?
I don't break down smack in front of you. Not unless I can help it.
It's just what happens.
A reflex.
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