Have you seen me lately?

If you saw me you'd think I liked the quiet, sometimes I think I do and sometimes it hurts to think that this isn't what I want at all. All I can know is how I feel and feelings can be so deceptive. This has been the longest December on record. So much to be thankful for, so much to look forward to and so much still remains to make me shit myself. So much left to make me think maybe it won't ever get any better, just enough left to make it all seem so pointless; a lingering thought that tells me to run, that says cut your losses and get the fuck out before you get in too deep.

If you were a fly on the wall, you'd think it was all my fault. If you thought too hard you'd blame me like I do. However, the obvious alwys hides the truth and I fuck up because I'm scared, because it's my defaut setting. I'm safe when I know how it all turns out, I can plan and buffer.

If you walked past my window, you'd think I didn't have a dream. You'd want to shake me and tell me all I had to do was believe. You'd want me to see what I already see. You'd want me to do what I do everyday.

I sit, I stand, I make faces at the voices in my head. I crawl into my dreams and take shelter from the storm outside. I comfort myself with the thought that it could all be so much worse.
(The Postal Service)