stress

Hi, everyone!

I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted in quite a while. No BB Posts, either, because I simply have not been watching at all :c I will catch up soon, though! school is done for the summer so it will be time to catch up on all of the things that I need to do.

But today’s Post is about stress. a certain kind of stress? the kind that likes to swallow you whole and wants you to rip out your stomach.

I think that I’ve been sad lately. not just lately, but for a long while. I’ll try to explain best as I can in a thing that starts with a p. a pleube? that thing that holds place of something to not reveal? Am I making any sense.

so there is a ball of yarn and a pair of knitting needles.

this ball of yarn is all wrapped up; quite secure of life and has never experienced really anything at all.

this pair of knitting needles comes along; has had a bit of practice knitting before. has some experience (plenty more than the ball of yarn).

so the knitting needles approach and unravel this ball of yarn, little by little. at first, it’s a little rough for the yarn to used to. but it is excited and enthused, and allows the unravelling. once the introductions have occurred, the between creates repetition. it ties the yarn up; twists it and untwists it. it makes the yarn churn. the needles poke and prod and can really hurt this ball of yarn. but no matter how many times these needles pull on the yarn and causes it to fray, the yarn holds on because it believes that the needles will make it into something beautiful; something worthwhile. and it’s true. the needles have the capability to make it wonderful. but it can also make it ugly. the needles have all the power whileas the yarn just goes along because it thinks better of the needles. the needles could care less; it just has a job to do. to fix? to create? to make better? to make the yarn more interesting than just a ball, so circular but untouched? the yarn does not want to be this weak. but she keeps falling anyway, an endless spool that is unwavering to his touch. 

That’s how I feel. I feel like someone is taking my insides and pulling on it. this feeling is the worst! how do I cope? I’d like to tell someone, but I don’t know how to bring it up. perhaps I should seek out a counsellor; a psychiatrist. the person I want to tell it to the most I can’t get it out. i really can’t. and it kills me inside. i fear i will shrink into a ball and hide away inside a compartment if i keep this inside of me.

thank goodness for music. i think my lyric-writing has improved!  i really hope. no-one has heard my songs; not really. it would be nice to be able to share and talk of my songs one day who will care to listen.

 

on the brightside, there’s a guy at work that makes me feel more me/ I probably shouldn’t think much of it, but he’s so genuine and kind to everyone. the world needs more him

“i’m only tan when you smile.” <– translate please!!

• mongoose– Louise