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What's wrong with me?

What is wrong with me? What's wrong with how I am feeling? What's wrong with me tonight? 
My soul aches, in many different ways possible, but I still don't know why. I still have no idea what brings me to such a mood, what makes me stop in the darkest corners of my mind and of my soul, staying there and touching those old ghosts, embracing them with dry, yet painful, eyes.
From times to times, I come back to such doubts, to such pain, to such desires. I'll go to the window, after writing this text, I'll light up a cigarette and look to the same old buildings, the same old starry sky, full of the same old doubts, full of the same old bullshit. I know it's pretty useless, because things won't change, unless I try it hard to make such changes happen. 
OK. OK. I feel like I'm not making sense.
I feel. Therefore, I think and I think a lot. Too much. It can be overwhelming, the way those feelings affect me.
I feel. And what I feel is painful. So much of what I feel, I have felt it during most of my life. Some of the stuffs that I feel is stupid futility, others are thoughts about myself, my life, my options. I feel things I don't understand and I don't deal very well with not knowing what is hurting me this much.
I could harm myself. Or I could draw. I've done both. But this time, I write. I write non sense, without any order. I write about people, that may be real or imaginary...

Then comes a time that I feel pretty ridiculous. And there aren't many ways to let go of your feelings, when the things you used to do aren't part of your life anymore, if you don't feel clean after writing, when self harming isn't obviously an answer, when the thoughts won't stop and you can't let go of them either, neither you can go outside and walk the streets of the city. There aren't many ways to escape, when there's nothing good left and all you can see are ugly faces all around you. And, c'mon, by ugly... let's call it ugly souls. Everyone's so full of shit, everyone is so full of lied and there aren't many good people left out there.
I want to shut all those thoughts and lock all those feelings. And it feels impossible tonight.
I cannot hide the face of disappointment. And it all turns black. 

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I gotta keep it up more to myself

I shall not write too much.
I shall not speak too much.
I shall not pass too much info to whoever reads or listens to me.
I shall not let my emotions drive my use of words.
I shall not remember white spaces with wet grey floor and strong smell to piss. Or a small building, nearly destroyed, where things happened on a daily basis, that you'd expect them to happen only in movies.
I have to sleep.
I have to log off the Internet, turn off my phone and avoid his phone calls.
I have to exit the streets during the weekend.
He's no boogie man, rather an annoying carnivorous trying to get his meat, decided to take even by force.
I have to sleep.
Good night (I'm sorry for the inconvenience and any possible lack of sense in this text)

I stand still

My mind was running crazy, while I was in the shower. Perhaps, not crazy in the sense people who know me could think, but still...
My mind and my soul are full of wonders. Longings, desires, incomplete phrases. The same way that our souls are shaped with everything we get throughout our living time, the same way our soul gets the tombs of those corpses we get throughout our very same existence, the same way we choose to carry such wounds, my mind got filled with wonders and wonderful treasures, feeding and keeping a huge empire. Through the times of my life, some tried to steal my treasures, some.others tried to destroy my empire... but I stand still.