Usually, when I am upset about anything, really; anything, I listen to an obscene amount of rap and dance music. It alleviates some of the stress because you can't really be mad while listening to it. It boosts my confidence about myself and I feel all of the stress leaving through every drum hit, brash rhyme and booming bass.
I also get needy, but I can deal with that in other forms. I am okay with being alone. I don't require constant social interaction. To be honest, I feel like I'm coming down with J.D. Salingeritis, otherwise becoming a hermit. I love talking to people, but maybe it's just the people I used to see constantly.
I find solace in the music and I find solace within the literature. I relax with my tea and I discover my world beyond through image and imagination.
Lonely, I am. Lonely, I am not.
There's something tragically beautiful of freezing underneath the burning desk light. The goosebumps rise like mountains and fall like meteors.
The frustration subsides like a storm on the ocean and I am one with the world. Barely enlightened, but the belief held that I am more than what is.
For that, the drowsiness is like a drug and sweeps me away; far into the abyss. The true irony of such a centered belief and the contradiction in which the mind creates.
I run, not for purpose, but for reason. I grasp the hand of the ghost and I run alone.
In which, the euphoria is me and I am the euphoria because there is nothing like the wind beating against your face for your own freedom.
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