Snapshot: Teletransporting feelings

He wakes up, looks ahead while slowly opening his child eyes.

He slept in the couch again. It's 9:30pm.

"Oh, I guess it's still not time", said to himself, while having headaches due to oversleeping on boredom.

The soap opera starts again, it's the third of the night, and he is following all of them.

He immerses in the world of the TV again, sitting in the corner of the sofa, with the curtains closed due to the darkness outside. He is way too close to the TV.

And the travel begins.

- I'm here for you, Jessica. "Oh wait, he's not supposed to say this, it's betrayal".
- So you mean you forgot Melissa completely? "No he did not! I mean, cmon, that barely makes sense!".

He is getting mad, screaming at the TV.

- Yes, I have nothing to do with her anymore. She is gone for good. "What do you mean she is gone for good?".
- What do you mean she is gone for good? "Yes..."
- I killed her. "Oh no, fuck this shit".

He shuts off the TV.

Silence.

He experiences the silence while pressing his hands shut as strong as he can do. He is angry, way too angry for something so silly as a plot from a TV show.

He stops. Silence again. He starts crying. He doesn't know why.

"It's so stupid" - he says while tears were still coming out of his eyes. "Why do I care about this so much? It's just a dumb TV show". His 11th years old mind thinks loudly to himself.

Runs to the bathroom, water to eyes, look in the mirror. "Your sad ugly face". Towel.

Calm. Silence again. Way more silence than ever before.

"Why am I like this?".

No one answers. He looks in the clock, still 10pm. 

"One more hour and they will be here."

Turns on the TV.

Endscene.

My Anxiety

All these things I can think,
going through my memory.
All these things I can think,
driving me to insanity.

All these moments I can feel,
needling through my skin.
All this hate I expel,
knowing you can tell.

I'm not living through my life.
I'm just crying over motives.
I'm not feeling my own mind.
Just a very emotive leaf
flying towards...
nothing.

Really nothing,
not even an entire verse.
Not even a rhyme.

Suffocated, nauseated, demotivated.
Depressive, repressive, unimpressed.
Loveless, motionless, lifeless.

Why don't you just suck it up?
Wake it up, shake it up,
break your own vices,
break you own world.
Why don't you just stop crying?
Why does everything you do
makes you wanna puke?

Why does every feeling needs to be an action?
Why does every action cause so intense feelings?
Why your own mind doesn't stop thinking about it?
Stressing about it, working about it.
Writing about it.
In disconnected ways.

Why your world inside makes you not enjoy the one outside?

Collection of Unfinished Thoughts on Someone

I miss the way I looked at you, and the excitement I had when going to see you.
Miss being silly together, with that old you, when we didn't care about anything or anyone,
wanting just having the most time with each other.

It was such a beautiful romance, really...
Such a shame we wasted, I mean, at least in my mind.
So many moments we would have, good, together, if we weren't so changed.
But that's the thing. We were changed.

Life made us make choices, choices that distanced ourselves from being any sort of story.
I was past to you. You were pain to me.
And today, years after everything, my heart has no feelings towards you.
In fact I haven't thought of you in a while.
But my mind is too silent at this point.
I haven't really thought of anything.
I haven't really thought of anyone.
Didn't fall in love either.
And I'm scared of this.

I'm scared of being permanently blocked of feelings.
Worst, blocked of connections.
I know no one new;
pass through whole conversations without absorbing or paying attention.
So, thinking about the way I looked at you when I was absorbing and feeling something
made me feel something.
Not to you, or for you.
For me, I felt excited by that idea again.
Of having someone to look at the way I did so many years ago.
But, as nothing is as easy as it can be, I don't know how to.
Ruminating constantly of what others think of me.
Which is stupid, I know, but understanding something doesn't make you believe it.

With that in mind, thing is, what if I was the bad guy in all of this?
What if I'm the only one to blame for being alone and having no soul to talk to?
What if I was the one that made you not love me anymore?
What if I find someone else, and I do all the mistakes over again?
Mistakes that I didn't know at the time.
Please no! I'm too tired.
Too tired to try again.
And too scared to confront myself over doing so.

This whole time the text was not for you.
Was my, stuffed with unfinished thoughts, mind.
Going into places it usually blocks.

Talking to you because I miss the old you, though.
That was a lovely person to be with.