It’s scary that when he cries I can feel the same tears trail down my lips. A friend of over developed feelings. Dancing with him I can still recall my hands being pulled closer, one on his chest  and the other on his abdomen fingers intwined. Every movement from when he rested his head on my shoulder, to the slow graze of the cello, and kissing his hand in mine as he lay sleeping, all felt deliberate. Writing this is even hard to word because continually reiterating makes me feel almost childish overindulging in possible signs of affection as a passing signal. He’s been seeing someone for over a month now. It’s strange thinking that even when you aspire and dream its not enough.

The moment you hear everything you’ve been imagining, a strange convoluted yearning for that feeling that everyone around you seems to be grasping so easily. A feeling that I use to feel so accustom to.

When life seems to just revolve around 11:11 and eyelashes, making wishes through miscellaneous superstitions we start to loose faith in not only ourselves but the lie. I posted a status the other day about depression and sadness.

“Depression leads to inspiration because you have questions, doubts, and uncertainty. Sadness is an understanding of absolute truth, a lack of ambiguity from which only pain can grow.”

Though this may have some depth to it, I’m depressed about my sadness. I can not “feel”… anymore. I can not bring myself to let my gaurd down emotionally. I cant find the reason to generate a spark.. This is the sadness I feel. A cycle.. A fear.

-Sepp

The red organic compounds that trickle the sweet euphoric nectar of youth. The burning bitter sensation of a short term high. A bi-product of a living organism is hard to imagine to be the life of a social gathering.
To be young and create youth from experiences of living on edge and bad decisions is what makes you remember what’s truly important. Sitting on the cheep fiber of this carpet staring at Christmas lights I can only pretend that this is euphoric.
The real euphoria is being alive to experience the cheep fabric, to drink such a nectar. I love the friend I have, the experiences I live, and the chance to make a impact on this lifetime..

I’m am lost, but I’m not alone.

-Sepp

I’m hoping at the gates they’ll tell me that you’re mine…

The repeat gesture of open arms reciprocated with nothing more than empty words. I need to slow down the time, build a still. My body and heart crumble at your touch on my cheek. I am broken, I am numb. I am a survivor.