Disconnected


Im sitting here at the train station, or rather standing, I swap between the two. I’m restless. The train doesn’t leave for about an hour, and it’s completely empty.
I feel like I should write, but as usual, I have no idea what to say.
I feel disconnected from myself, from everything. I get the urge to run away. Run and never look back, just go up in smoke, disappear.
I want to, but I can’t. Why? Because of all my goddamn responsibilities, they keep me going, they keep me alive. For how long, I cannot say.

I need a break from reality, some peace of mind even. A break from being me.

My urges to harm myself have intensified, and so far I’ve only bruised and scratched my skin, but who can say how long it’ll take before I break?
I’m lost, and I don’t care about anything.

Nor do I really care about what I say. Not that I really have any idea what to say either.

Empty, just completely empty.

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