Something stirs within me. I don’t know what it is. I can’t tell you what it is, because part of me thinks that it would betray myself in keeping a secret from my self, for myself. Part of me can’t tell you because I don’t know what it is.
I can’t tell whether it is anger, because usually in anger, I do something stupid without thinking. There is no thought involved and I end up in situations where I regret everything I am and do, and end up hurting someone I love. Or maybe even all of them.
Its not sadness because I do ABSOLUTELY nothing when I’m sad or upset. I just sit there and mope around for an extremely indecent amount of time with no productivity what so ever leading to even more moping sadness of doom.
This isn’t anything. But there is. Something is stirring inside me to get out. Something is growing and slowly beginning to become aware of its self and I am slowly becoming aware of myself. I am beginning to think of things I would have never thought possible. Feeling things I have never felt. Giving up, or more or less letting go of things I never thought I might in order to better myself or to better something else by getting rid of my own presence.
Something is dangerously lurking inside the pool of my imagination telling me I am nothing while telling me you are everything you need to be. For what? Only I know the answer to that. Will I tell myself one day, or when the time comes, or if even ever? I myself, do not know this.
All I know is, something is there and I can feel it. It is moving, and I can hear it. It is calling me, and I can’t figure out which direction to turn to face it.