Lost

"..something's getting in the way,
something's just about to break,
I will try to find my place,
in the diary of Jane
as I burn another page,
as I look the other way,
I still try to find my place,
in the diary of Jane.."

Dear lonely isle,

I know I don't usually blog about this, but I think I don't really know what's going on anymore.
I feel so out of sync, so out of my life these days.

The days just feel so long, and it takes forever just to get to the end of the day.

I feel like I can't connect to anyone anymore. If life is a party in a house with everyone you know, I feel like I'm left outside. In the cold.

I know I've changed. Something feels different somehow, but I don't know what.
I feel like I left something behind.

Maybe that's why I don't blog about this, because it sounds silly even as a I see it on paper, in writing. And yet I still can't describe it.

Truth be told, I don't know what I want anymore.
There are times I don't even know if I want anything anymore.
I look inside, and I don't see anything. I used to see people, and things and dreams.
Now I don't see anything. And the emptiness scares me.

Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with me, why do I consistently try to ruin everything good in my life, or why do I head down the path the destroy the best thing that has happen to me.
Or why can't I just be happy.
I know I don't do it intentionally.

But somehow it's just what I've been doing. And maybe I've been blaming everything and everyone for how miserable I am, when in fact I'm just making myself miserable.
And I don't know why.

My eyes hurt a lot these days. They always seem to be sore and red and itchy.
Maybe I need eyedrops, maybe I just cry too much.

Sometimes I think I need religion, to find a higher meaning to life. But then again, I'm too skeptical for religion. And I find it too much of a commitment.

Sometimes I think I just need to go home. But I'm not sure if what I want is there anymore.
Or if I want anything for that matter.

Sometimes I break down and cry when I drive alone. Sometimes the sky just looks too cloudy. Sometimes it's just too hot.

Sometimes I find I work too hard. And too much.
But it's the only way to make the time pass faster.
Without feeling guilty.

Sometimes I feel like I cannot do anything right anymore. I fumble up everything I do.
And I mess up everytime I try to make it right. I feel that no matter what I try to do, somehow I always make things worse, that all I'm good for is nothing, except to wreck things.
I'm so good at it, I even messed up myself. I'm just no good.

Sometimes I feel have so much to say. But when I pick up the phone nothing comes out.
I wonder why.
Why does it feel as if it's so difficult to talk.
Why does it get so hard.

Sometimes I find that I don't belong anywhere anymore. That everywhere I go I feel like an outcast, a stranger to society.

Sometimes I feel like putting up a poster, to advertise my lost. To look for myself.
Because I really don't know where to look for her anymore.

Have you seen me?
I'm missing.

love, Joyce.