Where I am

What the hell am I doing with my life? You ever just get so caught up in a moment, you decide to write to yourself? Damn, I’m way ahead of you. Sometimes I don’t know what to write about. There’s so much piled onto me it’s just as if all of this was nothing. Choosing one thing out of all of this is too much. But I just kind of wanted to write about how I feel right now. Looking back on my phone notes, even things as minimal as that. They’re causing me to feel nostalgic. I love myself, I love reading and feeling things again. It’s almost like every time I read something from myself, it’s as if a completely different person has written it. Or me from another time, or dimension. I don’t know this person at all, but he’s so similar and familiar. Why is he saying this? What is he doing? I want to know what his thoughts are. I want to know his pain and his suffering, and maybe a little bit about his love too. We can’t shut everything out. So why not. Right now I’m hungover, I feel awful. Just woke up not too long ago. I really wish I had the chance to tell younger me not to do this, or maybe me from about 12 hours ago that I’m being a fucking idiot. I wish I could talk to myself, impart some knowledge but that’s not even really what I would enjoy about it. I would just enjoy the company of me. I think I know myself so well, but really I don’t at all. I’m a total stranger and a freak. This is so enticing. how can I change so much, and be so out of pocket and not even be able to know why? I’m already twenty two years old. I miss being a child so much, I miss being a teenager. I miss every year, I remember them. I remember every day. I just want to go back and live each day, one more time. I want to feel everything again, even horrible pain. I want to be alive because nothing is more enchanting than knowing I wake up every day and I’m like a sound of my past, echoing against the walls of a huge cathedral. Even though it sounds the same, it’s so far away. It calls back to the original location of it’s inception, but it sounds faint and distorted, hollow and mysterious. And hearing it, you’d think it was the same. But it’s so different… That sound is just a shadow of the past, but yet it’s living in present time. And here we are. I’m an echo. But the sound I’m calling out with, it’s more than just words, or music, or even something soothing or beautiful to hear. It’s not of this world. It’s something nobody’s ever heard before. When it comes back, it’s something I would never dream of. It’s reaching out as far as it can go, while I get lost in it as it fades out and continues forever. Maybe someone will hear it, maybe nobody ever will. Even though after some moments that sound dissipates, it still is there. I thought it was dead, the world and life itself thinks it’s gone. Forever just darkness, and black, and that there’s nothing but dead silence. But it’s still there. It echoes forever. Whenever I listen, no matter what has happened in my life. I know it’s always there. And I can hear… I can hear it.

Lately I’ve been beaten down by life quite a bit. But in these down moments, where I wish I was what I was before, and I’ve given up and feel so down. So worthless. So depressed. But most of all, so fucking broken… I look back because. I can almost hear it. I hear what I would say to myself. Even though I’m a shadow of what I was, I know in my soul. I’ll always be there. And nothing can ever kill me. That love will never die. And I’ll forever be Jacob.