I do not mean to sound cliche. And I take nothing in this life too seriously. I do not need help, or something, or anyone and I am not seeking comfort, and I am not lonely, and there are no tears, and I don't want to cry. But I have to admit I am always and always sad, like I carry this inexplicable, nameless sack of sadness with me all of the time. There is nothing wrong. And in fact everything feels right. I am, truly, not unhappy. Everything is fun, there is so much to be done and more adventures to be had, and I am so utterly content in the life I've been given. Nothing feels amiss. I am moving in pace with time, though maybe a little out of sync at times but I am not in fear of fate. I am also too, so in knowing of all my blessings, these limbs and this youth, all of the amazing beauty I see around me, all this love I am in receipt of, endlessly protecting me...and I am so unattached and distanced to complex emotions and people as I have never been before and have never yet felt so free. But just sometimes, very sometimes. For no real reason at all, it just gets real heavy up in here. When all of the sad songs I know and films, books and every sad thought I keep just couldn't console this sore spot staining my heart blue. And I lay down, close my eyes, whilst half heartedly trying to fall asleep and I find myself thinkin' - I wouldn't be too much bothered, if I never woke up. J.
