In Solitude

It’s a Friday night and I should be out with my friends having some fun or something, but I’m not. I’m home, wetting my shirt and pillow with my tears, so sick and lonely I can not explain. I can’t breathe, my head feels like it wants to explode and my heart… is so still I don’t know if I have one anymore. All the blood is in my face and I’m glad no one is here to see me this way. I should be happy right? I have my gig on Sunday in front of uff… hundred maybe thousands of people. But at this moment I can’t think straight. All I know is that it is a Friday night and I am alone and I don’t want to. But I am. I don’t want to feel this way, I want the pain, fear, and sneeziness to stop. I want to breathe again and I don’t want to feel so vulnerable, fragile and lonely anymore. I don’t want to use glasses anymore. “My eyes are better than yesterday” I repeat to myself everyday… How long is it going to be until I can cure myself? Maybe not in this life, but I will still try, I do not give up.

I just want to get out of here and run, run, run until there is nothing left of me. My heart is still, and my bones are gone, that’s a step forward.

Do people read these messages?

Do you actually care?

What happens when you have a fever?

I’m glad I can at least write.

I have music and thoughts to keep me going. Maybe they can revive this old heart of mine.

I want the bad things to stop.

I don’t want to be lonely any more.

No one answers.

I should get used to it. Where are my people? My friends?

Can someone hear me?

I might regret posting this tomorrow.

Right now I don’t care.

I wish I could sleep.

I wish I could do so many things.

I’m cold.