this is messy and disorganized and confused but so am i.

sometimes i feel things that i can't describe. it's warm in this room and my head hurts and i can hear the dull undertone of the air circulating through this empty house and although i can feel all of these things, i know there is something else there. something bigger than this bed i lay in, something bigger than my two hands can hold, something bigger than my brain can fathom.

sometimes i think of how small i am in such an infinite universe and it hurts but at the same time it's comfortable knowing that out of everyone in the world i can't be the only one who feels this way. i can't be the only one who feels that my thoughts consume me to the point of exhaustion. opinions and notions and ideas delicately float through my brain, soft and fleeting. i try to touch them with my fingertips, but they dance away. i can't grasp what they say, i can't grasp what they mean. all i hear is an echo of what was but never will be. these feelings overwhelm me. they devour me.

and now they've made me realize. we are temporary. we can plunge into our thoughts and we can pick apart our brains as much as we want but nothing lasts forever. we are temporary and our thoughts are an accumulation of broken glass and dust that will be swept under the rug to be replaced by something newer and brighter.