The mussing of teenagers.

There’s nothing really running through my mind now. Just feeling. And, honestly, I’m not feeling much either. I’m just empty; empty of thought, empty of emotion… And that’s not a bad thing. I’m feeling oddly free, but also oddly repressed. I know you can’t feel nothing, and I sense my emotions locked in the back of my head, but I don’t want to feel them. Not because they’re bad, I think, but because I don’t want to.

I’m not feeling empty is a ‘goth’ kind of way where I’m all ‘dark and empty’. I just feel separated. Comfortable.

I was thinking about how I liked feeling alone, but how I still get really sad when I want to talk to someone and they aren’t there. And it made me wonder what’s the difference between feeling alone and feeling lonely and just being alone.

I’m also thinking about stubbornness. So maybe I’m not free of thought after all. But I still feel detached from these thoughts. Now, personally, I admire stubbornness, even encourage it at times, but I’m starting to realize that when based on pride it’s really not a good thing because stubborn pride may be the most dangerous kind of all.

And yet I can’t give it up; I can’t swallow my own pride.

Hypocrisy is a good topic, too. And determination. Why do I not act on my own ideas? And why am I only determined to do things when they can’t be done; when they’re only a thought in the void. Because when it comes time to do them, when I can do them, all that determination flies out the window.

And why is it that every time I’m happy or thankful or in wonderment of something it goes away? Why is it that every time I notice and appreciate something it’s gone soon after?

And why am I not always this person? The person typing this? Why is it that I have to revert to Me when I log off? I wanna stay here; in this mindset, forever.

But, even thinking that, I hate myself for typing this. Not for any noble reason, just because I think it’s so cheesy and emo, even if I really don’t mean it that way, and I imagine myself like all the girls I criticize and I get angry. And I don’t know who exactly I’m angry at.

Rereading this; I can tell it's terrible and cheesy and the mussing of any teenage girl, but I'm still going to share it because, well, I've already decided to and I am stubborn.

PS: I promise, I'm not depressed. Not to my knowledge, anyway.