Something unexpected took place today. I was going through some articles and poems of a friend's friend and somewhere between those lines, it actually brought back a lot of memories and thoughts and feelings which I had tucked away at a safe corner for quite sometime now. It feels like they're back to haunt the present.
I'm not sure if it's bad or not, but it was really disturbing. It's like a part of me which I tried to bury alive is now digging up from it's own grave. It creeps up from it's aged grave and it kills you slowly inside. It feels like something inside you is slowly dying. You're not sure from what exactly, but all you can do is feel the dead feeling seeping in little by little; up to the point where you feel that emptiness from the hole that the ghost has eaten up when it's too late and too painful to even feel anything anymore.
Regardless of how harmful it is to allow myself to drown in this, sometimes there is some kind off sick comfort in it.
I'm just going to spin Phil Campbell in the player and hopefully it will kick those effing ghosts back to where they belong.. for the time being.
I'm not sure if it's bad or not, but it was really disturbing. It's like a part of me which I tried to bury alive is now digging up from it's own grave. It creeps up from it's aged grave and it kills you slowly inside. It feels like something inside you is slowly dying. You're not sure from what exactly, but all you can do is feel the dead feeling seeping in little by little; up to the point where you feel that emptiness from the hole that the ghost has eaten up when it's too late and too painful to even feel anything anymore.
Regardless of how harmful it is to allow myself to drown in this, sometimes there is some kind off sick comfort in it.
I'm just going to spin Phil Campbell in the player and hopefully it will kick those effing ghosts back to where they belong.. for the time being.
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