Addictions... drugs... highs

Inside music or music inside me I am real. I exist solely for music’s touch as only when it caresses my being I truly am me. If it were possible I would stop my brain functions and dance for eternity moving only through the power of vibration. No concern for time or hurt. No concern for right or wrong. Pure, simple pleasure running inside me. No concern for thought. Pure, magic flowing smoothly, deep down touching every single part of me. My body can not control it and my emotions run high. I am addicted to the rhythm, as the sound pumping strongly is my favourite drug. When I allow it to take over I feel naked. Revelations of the true me; and I accept this person with no hurt, disappointment or hate. I feel true to me as music fills my soul with passion.

Gratitude

I thank life for the love I have received:)

Does anyone actually see Me?

I am actually not strong enough to carry more than my own weight on my shoulders.

measure it?

Can we quantify anything that is not countable? In psychology there is the attempt to make abstract, touchable and therefore measurable. I understand how slipy this territory can be and so, how we should be careful when attempting to understand anything on an emotional level.

Can we measure pain?
Can we measure how much someone has hurt?

I can’t begin to count the tears because of him, the times I felt breathless, the times my heart felt like it was dying on me. I can’t begin to weigh the amount of pain because of him. Can’t recall in a figure number the amount of sleepless nights. Can’t quantify the times I humiliated myself.
Although, I can count the years I have loved someone that said not to love me back.

In order to measure something you need to know exactly what it is, only then can you attempt to understand it and draw any type of conclusion. Is pain something that can be understood? How can it be defined? Surely we can see its effects on the brain? The receptor of everything, every feeling and every idea.

Is there a difference between the pain of loving and not being loved back compared to the pain of not having found someone new to love?

When I hit my head against the wall, when I smash my fist into solid brick, when I cut my skin, when I drug my body nothing compares to the pain my brain imposes on me when I think we not together. When I recall the words I don’t love you. When I remember you have been able to move on and be in love with someone else.

But hurt can’t be measured because there is no device that can quantify it. Isn't it?

..Karma..

I tried so hard to erase my mistakes, regain the trust, restore the faith. I believe I was just not enough for you but I am tired of feeling it was all my fault.

trying hard...

I miss the friendship.

I wish I could say it is easy but I’m not as strong as other people, I’m not as strong as you or then again I still haven’t been able to move on.

I got to keep believing this is the only way I will be able to breathe. The only way I will finally grow. I got to believe that this is the best because I’ve been hurting for so many years that all I am now is Damaged.

It is not easy to see you around and not be part of your life, it is not easy for me to have so much inside and not be able to let you know about me. Things are not fair for everyone and I’ve been the one that has been “screwed” because I am the one that still cries for you.

It is not easy as I live in fear. My past represents mistakes and failure. Always wanted to be more and better, to be really loved and beautiful inside and out; expectations and desires above my capacities. Above reality. Been holding on to a past, fantasized reality. There is no room for hope when all I am now is Damaged.