28

I'm shivering. It's cold in the house. I should really have some tea or something. I need the caffiene anyway. The whole day was full of stress and arguements.
Group assignments in University are a joke. How can you say 'this is like the REAL world' when in the real world school and work aren't in the way of group meetings?... it is your work! There's no time for anything. We fudge time by skipping the ends of something and arriving late to others. We collect our thoughts in confusion and aggrivation. We ignore our stomachs just to not waste the time consuming anything but knowledge.
I sit here in this cold house as a habit from these learned abilities. Ignore yourself. Ignore the time. Focus.
But it's time to listen and feed myself in warmth and nutrition. The life of a University student.

The End.

27

I'm wearing myself out. So tired yet still refusing to sleep. It's like I'm waiting for something to happen. Is there something I should be doing that only my subconcious knows? Cuz I'm here and I can barely react or see anything but I'm keeping myself up and alive. This can't be good. I want to rest forever. I'm stressed and running off nothing. I have assignments that seem to getting bigger than smaller every minute and the opposite for the allotted time leftover. I think I'll try forcing sleep since I'm not physically willing to go. I will move myself outta this chair with the sheer force of my mind and have a dreamless slumber for the short hours that are left in this evening.

The End.

26

I need an escape of some sort. A trip. A few days to myself. A day with no annoyances or obligations. A time where I can relax and rid myself of everything. A day to breakdown and recover. A day to be myself with no masks or characters to play. A time to change the atmosphere around me.
I need it but can't have it.
There is no time. This structure of numers and days has destroyed us all as we race around trying to accomplish too much in the full circle of a clock.
I'm worn out and this remains hidden to allude that I'm alright. I hope I find a gap in this structured schedule of time soon.
The End.

25

Lack of sleep and focused concentration have revealed interesting moments. I've seen things at the corner of my eye that turn out to be nothing. I've consumed many cups of caffiene to keep my zombie-like body going. I've ran around in circles of adrenaline rushes just to keep myself moving expecting to crash any minute. I didn't crash. I haven't crashed. I'm still alive and awake and coherent. How is this possible? I don't know. My batteries have barely had a quick-charge and yet they're still going like I'm the bunny. I hope all this changes soon. It can't be good. I can't afford a complete burnout.

The End.

24

It's been a long time. A really long time. It feels like a whole life could fit in the gap from then and now but things don't change much.
I'm still dealing with even more in my life. The bricks keep getting laid, but they're crooked and jagged and waiting to topple. I keep picking them up just before, but I know they'll fall soon.
The pressure is getting to me. School, work, family, friends, life. The only constant I have is my music. It keeps piling up too. Album upon album of comforting melodies. Some comfort in ways that depress while others hold as a great morning pick-me-up.
I missed my writing, I hope to keep it going again as another constant in my life. We shall see what happens.

The End.

23

I'm numb and don't know what to do with myself. I can fake cheerful in a matter of seconds but as soon as the moment is over I go back to what I was before. I stare at nothing. I don't look many in the face. I look for comfort in the leaning on a shoulder or a calm and peaceful voice. I lost a familar life this week. Not my own but one that will always be part of me. A family member. A friend. A storyteller. A memorable voice. I will miss them greatly and until I fully process, I am left numb and not myself.
The End.

22

When I look in the mirror I see a ghost. The ghost is me.
I'm pale and white, and as I look more closely I have no colour in my cheeks.
My eyes are open, but the soul they guard looks empty.
Not a single expression can made forced onto my face.
I am lifeless.
I am scared as hell.
I don't want this to be the end of the body that I'm praying for.
It leaves me empty, with little hope.
When I look in the mirror I am a ghost.

The End.