I wonder if there will ever be a day where I don't constantly ache for the feeling of not feeling. Will lines ever feel like theyre perfectly placed and colored in properly? I'm sick of always over thinking over analyzing over stimulating my brain with these worries only to give them a pulse to give them oxygen to breathe alnd run liquid and hot through my body and infect the sunlight with it's darkness. I just want to forget what it feels like to feel inadequate I want to live on top of the sun I want to feel smooth, flow with the wind, glide on top of the ocean instead of sinking sinking sinking at the bottom. My head is an ocean I don't know how to swim out of and I am tangled in the webs of anxiety so tightly bound it almost feels disillusingly comfortable. I wonder if I will ever be able to get it. I wonder if I will be able to dis-identify with my mind the part of my mind that tells me I am my anxiety, I am this pain-body, I am not good enough. If vulnerability to a weakness is not weakness then maybe I shouldn't feel so bad. But every interaction is an endless hill I have to climb and nothing comes easy, not even the ability to breathe this god forsaken free fucking air and i'm tired of not being able to fully feel the breeze through my hair or getting water up my nose because i'm sitting at the bottom of this fucking ocean and all I want to do is float on top of the water and let the sun hit my face and float and believe that nothing will make me drown again because I am human and I know how to float and the water is my friend that will help me when I have the proper tools and it won't bring me back down again to the bottom of this ocean where I can't tell if my eyes are closed or if i'm just living in darkness. when will the need for perfectionism go away and i won't constantly search for that pure white of the sheets I never knew how to keep clean and when will I stop trying to fabricate my words in a way that will make me feel better but the comfort in the fabrication is only more of a reason to cause me anxiety and god damnit if I want to get off this fucking carousel all I need to fucking do is place my feet on a different kind of solid ground. but yet when you spend your life in the blue, denying the red, not even realizing there is a such thing as red like a fish that lives in water like the fish that lives with me in the bottom of the ocean who doesn't know the difference between water and what is really just his natural living environment and oh my god nothing is what it seems and I am not who I am supposed to be but there is nothing anyone is supposed to be I think we just are who we are and I have too many thoughts in my head that I can't turn in to poetry that will move someone that will make me feel love in my feet or close those holes in my chest. I am constantly searching for a way out of this a way out of my fucking head and a way out of this constant second guessing it suffocates me and I am at a lost for words.