Sometimes, there's thoughts that run through my head that don't seem to really mix with anything. It's like sitting on a bus looking out the window. And you begin to see your reflection but it's not clear enough so you're not sure how you really look. And you want to know how you look because you want people to notice you. You don't want to be that fading reflection in the bus windows.

Thoughts of how much you miss someone while you're walking down you street and you see your house. How you remember him sitting in the chairs outside reading and eating a sandwich. How he'd sometimes walk up and meet you. How you always knew he was there and now there's a big hole where he was.

You think of ways to kill yourself with the objects around you. You hunt for the scenario of how you'll end it and how you'll make sure everyone sees it. And then you feel guilty because no one deserves that. And then you begin to wonder what do other people deserve. Then you begin to wonder, what the hell do I deserve?

Not this, right? Not whatever is going on. The stress makes your eye twitch. When you wish it would stop because not only do you feel nervous about having a weird twitch in your eye, but you're nervous that others can see it and think you're going to go postal.

How do these fit? How do these thoughts connect? There is of course one macro-emotional event that has caused all of these but you take it apart and you see so many parts. You see the anatomy of your heart; your soul. You see the artery sending the viscous pain that seems to cling to every chamber of your heart. You see the vein taking away the slow dripping happiness. You see the blackened tar on the heart from the concoction of anger and fear. You see what you're donig to yourself and it scares you. Too much to do anything.

Because you're not trained to fix a dying heart. You aren't trained to fix a broken heart. So you stitch the heart back up. You forget the anatomy involved and leave it as it is. Slowly dying under the pressure of books and tests and assignments. Slowly immobilizing the muscles in your face to smile or the reaction to laugh.

You die inside and that's when they've really lost you.