I love mornings like this when I wake up and realize that the air still smells like last night's rain. It's one of the things that calm me; one of the few things that say sit back, things are under control.
I'd like to think that I know what I'm doing, but really, I don't. One moment, I hate a certain person, and the next, I feel like I'm crazy for even thinking I could hate them. My aunt is in the kitchen, telling us to cook our food, which is not a bad thing, never, except she doesn't seem to know the difference between speaking and yelling. She always does that, and I hate it. She washes the dishes and puts them on the rack, and every single time, it's a noisy affair. It's not a big deal, but when it's something you hear everyday, you either stop caring or you start caring too much. Sometimes, I just don't care. I let her be however noisy she wants to be. Most times, I take a deep breath and ask myself, what the eff is her problem now? Cause it never seems to stop. It's like she hates the world, and I don't know why. It makes me hate the world, too.
I like staying in my head. It's easier to deal with myself than face the truth, but it's scary. Sometimes, I build up so many fantasies in my mind that they start being my reality, and the real reality starts being too hard for me to take. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Maybe I'm just a dreamer, trying to create a new world because I can't fix the one I'm in.
I'm falling too deep into this pit of unexplainable sadness, and I'm falling fast. I'm scared that one day, I'd lose myself and I wouldn't care at all.
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