Out of Touch

13

june 24, 2021
short journal entry—

Song: Beautiful Little Fools -Jorja Smith
(in playlist)

I feel like there's a lot in the world that we'll never understand. No matter how much people study it, how much they indulge in a subject till their nose bleeds, there's always something missing. They're spending their time trying to figure out something with no straight answer. For example:

Why do people kill? 

We as humans ask broad questions with no solid answers simply because, that's our nature. We're curious beings but never about the things that have a cut definition. It's always a long tedious math equation that can be solved with so many different formulas depending on the numbers, how it's set up, and what you're actually solving for.

So think of it as that. A math formula.

Why do people kill?

motive + impulse + hereditary = a crime + someone dead + figuring out the motive + evaluating

and divide it all by the psychological reason why a human does.. what a human does.

..

I'll be honest that was all some made up bullshit but you get my point. There's too many little details that make it near impossible to answer the question of 'why people kill.'

Think of the Purge movies. The first thing people think of when all the laws are lifted is ending someone's life. Not even "Hey let's rob a bank and call it a day!", but "Let's rob a bank.. then kill a few couple of people, and then maybe kill some more!" As if robbing isn't enough.

Why is that?

Guess we'll never know.

I'm sorry for not starting this the way i normally have. It's been almost 3 months of me feeling guilty for not writing. As time passed it's blurred the reasons as to why I was doing this in the first place. Who I was writing for, how was it helping me, and is it worth it.

See, more questions with no clean cut answers.

While in my hiatus I've come to terms with many things weighing me down. Not all but, some. I've begun to understand this numb feeling that I've held on to since my childhood. I think when we all hear that word we automatically make the assumption that I can't feel. Which makes sense, that's the definition of the word right?

"Deprived of the power of sensation"

and I cant even begin to describe how opposite I feel to that definition.

The word numbing and suppression are kind of similar. In my case I feel too many things. Too many thoughts too many emotions that are so difficult to control, so my body begins suppressing a reaction. I've been so numb and void to the feelings of being wanted, of my opinion mattering, that I don't have the energy to react. Giving off the impression that I'm "numb."

Like hey look, this person has such a blunt reaction to something that seemed important to them in that past, that's weird!

I'm at a point where I'm in conservation mode. As cheesy as it is I'm conserving energy for the planet that is my body. I don't know exactly what I'm waiting for but, I'll figure it out eventually, hm?

Honestly looking over all that I've said up to this point I'm plenty aware that a lot of these emotions come with disassociation. Not being present in a conversation or even feeling like your thoughts aren't yours. They're just floating in front of you and you're reading them over and over like a meaningless book in AP lit class and you STILL can't fucking grasp what it's saying, what it even means. Your surroundings and the things you felt comfortable with are unknown and now your body rejects them. The feelings of genuine love and acceptance are so foreign and theres no getting them back.

So eventually you start getting angry. You start lashing out at yourself because you can't seem to express it on the outside. You look like a still rock in a high river current. Your regrets and the feelings you wish you could fully indulge in are passing you by and chipping away at your want and need to be sane. So on the inside you're pounding on the doors, to be set free and to stop the repeated suffocation. The anger builds and the pain starts being filled to the brim with so much heat. The needing to hurt someone how you've hurt yourself, or to make someone pay for what they've done to you. It's such an aggressive push from the inside and you break. That shitty wooden door can't hold the forces of anger. For so long you didn't know you had it in you. Every feeling and every touch was just lightly grazing the door.

Like a butterfly, that came to say hi. It fluttered it's pretty wings and disappeared faster than you saw it arrive. And that's it.

I want you to read this back.

Carefully.

And if you still don't get it, look at the bigger picture.

a/n

they wrote it like the beginning of a story as to why someone would kill, another person.

:)

let's me know what you all thought of this comeback chapter. i know it's not the best but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. thank you all for sticking by me for so long <3

i'm back.