Venting

When you asked me if I ever felt like I didn’t know who I was, if I ever felt lost, I said that I didn’t. Was that because I thought I knew who I was? Or did I do not realize that I hadn’t really found myself? I have no idea who I am. What I’m doing or what I want. Where am I going? Why do I feel like I’m constantly waiting for something? It’s there in my mind unceasingly, this thought that there is something to get, something to do. It gets in the way of now, prevents me from thinking clearly.
But that’s not what I really wanted to talk about today.
I wanted to know why I’ve come to this site to vent my thoughts. Why it’s to a computer and not a person that I ‘speak’ to. I need an outlet, as many people do, a way of releasing my feelings into the world. I can’t lie to myself, in a selfish and self-absorbed way I want SOMEBODY to know how I’m feeling, there would be no point in writing all of this otherwise, would there?
FUCK. Now I can’t organize my thoughts in order, there are too many of them, too many tangents, they branch off and split repeatedly, sometimes doubling back and meeting up. Too many to write
andthelevelsoffrustrationbuildupsoi’llstopforaminute
Music is distracting in these circumstances. The noise of the traffic on the street ahead is soothing and melodic.
Peace at last…?
I wonder what it would take to make me happy. I feel angry with myself for not being happy, a strange situation to be in. Though that’s not always a bad thing as how would you appreciate or realise happiness if you couldn’t compare it to being sad.
Although sadness isn’t what I feel.
Lost, bewildered, lonely, maybe betrayed. The melodramatics of this text have not escaped me, though chances are no one will read this anyway.
Self-pity? now there’s a trait to admire.
Shame that sarcasm doesn’t carry well across the text,
Talking to myself,
Is that not what I’m doing anyway?
Matters nothing, no one will read this anyway

I’m not going to write this as if I’m talking to her. As then I might as well try and talk to her. I wish I could just forget, but better to have love and lost then never to have loved at all right? Bet he wouldn’t have said that if he kept on losing.
It’s taken its toll on me, I don’t want to have to say goodbye any more.
So I won’t say hello again.
Metaphorically of course
I feel like I’m talking in riddles, I want to speak clearly but there is no way to communicate the mess that is inside.
Can you, the reader, sitting on a chair; maybe your chair or maybe just a chair (say chair in your head too much and it loses all meaning, why should that combination of letters and sounds, when ordered like that, take the meaning of the object upon which you may or may not be sat?), in your bed or on the kitchen table, can you understand this at all? What I’m trying to do is give you a glimpse into how my thoughts work, they vast raging maelstrom of ideas and emotions which swirl through my brain. Love to be able to understand how carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, iron, hydrogen and all the other elements come together to form a brain, then with a new combination form chemicals and hormones which govern it, all powered by the zaps of electricity which isn’t made from anything like as simple as atoms but rather the same thing that atoms are made of. How does that come together to make me ME?
That was a long paragraph. If you can understand that then you understand me better than I do. I just got lost with my thought stream and allowed it to run wild. Now I’m just getting boring.
BACK TO THE MATTER IN HAND
Now that you can see how I think, do you understand me? I’m not sure why I find this so important but I do and I always have. If you can see how my mind fits together, how it works and where my thoughts come from and are headed then does that make us soul mates? But if you CAN understand me, how many others can? This world is a big place, surely there could be more than one person for everyone. Make a group of soul mates. A harem of them. Some people are simpler to understand than others. At least on the outside. I’m losing my mind again, I can’t keep it in order so I think it’s time to post this. I’m sure that I’ll talk more on the subject soon, though I don’t doubt it’s more for my own benefit than anyone else’s.
One final thing before I go through. The lesson I’ve learnt from this. It’s important to do this at least once, indeed you should do it regularly, so that you know that when one of THOSE conversations come up (the ones where you are able to convey something about yourself to another individual, they usually occur in bed, alone together, or maybe at a bus stop, walking her home, when one of those conversations come up then you are able to contribute and ask a question which will make the other person interested, challenge them, allow them to see inside your mind.
Now tell me truthfully.
Can I Be Found?

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