I've lost Jess.
Have you ever felt that you are searching for something?
You kept digging, kept on digging,
you don't know what but you kept on digging,
the hole keeps getting bigger and you fall deeper but you keep on digging,
"I have to find it"
You have gotten way over your head,
and you finally hit something,
but in the end simply couldn't make sense of it.
You put it back down.
Cover "it" the same way you found it.
The time isn't right.
When I started this blog, I've never meant for anything to be personal. I never wanted to give away my inner voice nor bawl about my daily woes. Not that I have much of.
I never wanted to tell every bit and fragments of my life, my celebrations, my outings with friends. Because I never felt fragments of my life could ever mean anything if they weren't whole. Pictures are simply pictures. Smiles simply poses for the camera.
It was more of an outlet.
An outlet for all life's irony.
And crap I receive (with much joy) on a daily basis.
Yet I've done it now.
I'm getting personal.
I enjoy being alone.
Alone with my music, alone with my words.
I rejoice when everything is still and dead.
But I ain't no sadist.
I feel that teenagers are annoying and I am annoying as hell but when I'm near them I'm near myself, and I won't feel so anymore. I laugh out loud and immerse myself in all that laughter losing myself in it. I talk and I talk and I talk, I don't feel that's me but that's Jess. I laugh and I talk and my mind is running a thousand miles an hour but that's not me, that's Jess.
But once I lost Jess, it's me.
I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't laugh. And I just sit still and take it all in, my family, my friends, those bonds, those silent words, it's all them and there's no Jess.
That's when I look down at my own feet, tap it twice on the floor, and realize that is when I'm most alive. I simply am. Conscious.
I've lost Jess and I rejoice.