Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

I'm home alone.
It's pleasant, but the stigma
of being alone =ing "bad"
is difficult to shake.

However much I'd like to be
able to stay to myself 24/7
it's just growing more and more
unrealistic;

I'm growing more social each
and every day.

My mother brought me pictures
I had taken years ago and I was
completely shocked at my
appearance.

Everything was so baggy.
So concealed.
So unfit.

And not only that -
but the pictures of my surroundings?
Light breaking through clouds
over a church.
A sunset outlining the ends of the
photograph.
A cigarette held in someones hand.

It was all hauntingly familiar yet
oh, so far away.

I felt like Alice peering through
the looking glass.

And here I am wondering if, then,
I was ever truly alive.

My day to day routine revolved around
drinking and playing with fire. Driving
for miles upon miles in search of a good
scare or unseen sights in a world where
all that is unseen is imagined and produced
to be nothing worthwhile - or so it strikes
me to be that way.

In comparison to who I am now..
It's just the same question:
was I really alive?

Damn - methinks I've come such a long way.
But to be 17-18 again..Would I have really
changed anything?

Ramble ramble ramble.