There is something being lost, as each day passes, how the time is nonchalant and the days blur together: alike and dripping of blankness.

And there is no horrifying experiences, how do I wish to feel something- spmething that bad, because I'd rather feel than have nothing worthy of putting my pen to the paper- having nothing to remember.

But this is somehow a loss of myself- I have nothing to define me at this moment, and I am not the girl I used to be, which is wonderful, but I wish that I was wonderful, instead of just boring and floating and a cacophony of memories; like a film that never stops running. 

I want to be something, I want to feel something, I want to be more than this, i want to live, and yet I don't know how because I gave up on being someone a long time ago, and now that I have the chance to be someone, it is terrifying and overwhelming and something I'm certain to lose.