Why? Isn't that always the question? Why does this happen, why, why, why. Too much time analyzing things that I can't control, things that encompass the mind and drive it to the depths of insanity. Sensitivity skyrockets and the scents stimulate your nerves and the images blind you and everything you hear only contributes to that ache, that overwhelming feeling of the loss of control.
Everyone has their own solution, and the force of theirs can be exhausting. Decisions have to be made, and yet, the feelings are always mixed. I crave human contact; I need it to remember that I am a part of this humanity and a part of this society. But yet, I find it revolting, and I crave isolation, the kind that heightens the tranquility of self-awareness.
Are feelings truly so strange? Sometimes, they feel so very foreign, and I wonder if I can make sense out of it at all.
Dreams are truly fleeting.