I slept through a year. When I woke up, I was utterly shocked where I left my life. Most of my friends were gone. People don't understand. 'How'd you like to be alone and drowning;'
my family gets it sort of, but really not always. They forget about it a lot. I am still foggy. I fall asleep standing up. I fall asleep at the wheel. I think I've talked while sleeping, to other people, who remind me of what was said and I don't remember sometimes. I can't get angry or I get weak. Same with laughing too hard. I slept away some part of my life, I don't even know when it started.
I know it seems that I don't care,
But something in me does, I swear.
I don't remember all last year.
I left you awake to cry the tears,
While I was dreaming in streams
Flowing between the shores
Of joy and sadness
People thought I just didn't care. And by people I mean best friends, love interests, family. Important persons in my life. People who I cared for so much. But time passed in such a funny way. I never really knew that a month went by. 3 months. 6 months. Summer. Fall. Such a blurry fog. So many things that I do not remember. Spaces of time I can not account for. And the questions that were left by my dozing. I'm more awake now, not always. Sometimes. It's better now, but the effects of before now are still here.
When You Slept Through A Year
Started by
novacat
, Oct 12 2012 11:39 PM
1 reply to this topic
#1
novacat
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Posted 12 October 2012 - 11:39 PM
#2
DeathRabbit
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Posted 16 October 2012 - 01:37 PM
"Struggling with confusion, disillusionment too
Can turn a man into a shadow, crying out from pain
Through his nightmare vision, he sees nothing, only well
Blind with the beggar's mind, he's but a stranger
He's but a stranger to himself
Suspended from a rope inside a bucket down a hole
His hands are torn and bloodied from the scratching at his soul"-Traffic
Can turn a man into a shadow, crying out from pain
Through his nightmare vision, he sees nothing, only well
Blind with the beggar's mind, he's but a stranger
He's but a stranger to himself
Suspended from a rope inside a bucket down a hole
His hands are torn and bloodied from the scratching at his soul"-Traffic
