pathetic sundays

thousand days since last entry, so why not start with some, "oh it this feels just like the other ten times iv moved in to a new apartment and is left alone the first night" rambeling

Diving into it again
plunging in to the deep dark water
to the unknown that is yet so familiar

frightened by the insight that this is it
that living in the flesh will allways feel like this
the lonliness is sometimes so overwhelming

even though company often bothers me
almost tortures me
makes my skin itch and my legs feel oh so restless
the feeling of nothing
the sound of silence
is allways a million times worse

i ask theese questions and my voice bounces of the walls
the echo hits me in the face
baring no answers but the hollow truth that im an still alone

my breaths sound like whispering children
the television is allways a little bit to quiet.

the phone rings and i yearn to hear another voice
but my arm is paralysed, my voice mute
and the signal eventually dies
fearing the outcome of any conversation before it even starts

to much of an effort i think,
i might even be saying it out loud
who knows when no one is listening

oh sunday, bloody sunday.