Writing to Scar

I haven't really felt like writing. I still really don't want to write. The things that are going on right now aren't things I want to write about, think about or talk about really. It isn't pleasant. It is just hard to write about what is happening in my life right now and not say what is staring me right in the face.

It is Monday. I have one class today but I have a couple of meetings I need to go to. One with my advisor and one with a girl in my class later tonight. If I am lucky everything will go just fine. I should really be working on the large amount of reading that is due tomorrow. I didn't get a lot done this weekend. Work... and other stuff. Including being sick. Have you ever just wanted to barf so that you could lay down and get some sleep?

Life is just crazy right now. There is so much I want to do. So much I don't have time for. And yet things are not moving fast enough for me. I feel like I have to keep moving all the time so that everything around me will keep moving. I can't stand still. Time can't stand still. But I am so tired. As much as I want to lay down and rest there is no peaceful rest for me. Too much to do. Too much going on around me. Too much to think about. No way to block it all out.

Block it out. Block it all out. Close the wounds with the poison still in them. Heal outside while I still bleed inside. Sleep but never really sleep. Toss and turn and have dreams. Dreams of sleeping. Dreams of peace. Of rest.

I don't even know what I am saying or writing anymore. It is all strangled and knotted up inside. Trying to let it leak out slowly is not working because it is to tightly wound up in everything else.