Yet Another

Im currently sat in my thinking spot listening to mumford and sons, thinking about everything.

I took a walk and ended up here, and i guess its lucky i had my laptop in my bag, because this place has helped me capture a lot of running thoughts.

Im going to upload this later, and i know it will be my third blog today but theres just so much on my mind, and no one i can share it with at the moment.

I feel i should describe the place for some reason, its a wooded area with a small stream running all the way through, the place im sat has up grown tree roots in a sort of minute bench shape, on opposing banks, there are a few logs in the stream and a rusty wheelbarrow. There is a large tree to my right, and directly ahead of me is my house.

The place itself was somewhere i used to come when i was younger to think about things.

I cant shake the feeling of sadness now, for some reason it makes me want to cry, and although ive thought about this i don’t seem to know how to anymore. Its been so long since i cried properly, im used to tucking things away and forgetting about them. They always come back with some deviant bite in the ass though.. My mind is essentially a derelict bomb site at the moment, things are scattered everywhere, nothing seems to fit together and its somewhere you wouldn’t want to be caught alone. The only thing i can describe is being alone in a city, with no one for miles. No matter how much you call there is no one to save you, nobody to talk to and no form of sanity. Unfortunately its too often im caught there, with no escape.

Im sat watching the ripples in the stream, a quiet beauty surrounds me and it always provokes so many dark thoughts. I worried myself as i found myself wondering who would care if i died. A small child just arrived in the same area on his bike, and i realised how strange i must look right now.. Alone, earphones in, quiet, and typing. I looked up at my window and just found my thoughts stray to imagine my own death, not the death itself but the consequences of it happening. Who would care? Would anyone miss me? I imagined myself as a spirit passed, wandering my house and watching home life without me. How would my family react? What would my social group do? And most of all how would my death affect everyone around me? These thoughts are so depressive, yet somehow satisfying in a weird way. Its scary how it happens, and that it doesn’t take much to trigger these when im alone.

There must be some really deep ridden emotion inside me which i haven’t allowed to arise from its stone in the ground. The childs dad just arrived, and theyre now talking, i can lightly hear them over the music, and theyre just about to leave.

I missed out on a father figure like that when i was younger, me and my dad never went out for child father bonding sessions, so ive never really had that close relationship. This was fully revoked as i was growing up, we just didn’t seem to get on. Hes moving soon, i think its today, but ive only heard from my brother and mum, not him. I think that makes me sad, kind of disappointed..? I really don’t know anymore. My emotions all seemed to get mixed in to one another, and i can never tell exactly how i feel, the only two emotions i seem to show are happiness and anger, if im not one im the other.

I hate this. Why is it so hard to just lead a ‘perfect’ life, and do what i need to for success? I seem to fuck up all i have, and when i get something ive wanted i sabotage it. {The perfect line came on just as i typed that: ‘I really fucked it up this time, didn’t i my dear?’}

I think im going to stop typing now, it must be strange to look at this blog and picture ‘aiden’ as purely depressive, because all my in depth blogs are my worst thoughts. But who am i? To be honest, i don’t know myself, i still seem to be finding out so much about myself i really don’t know.

I may implore in to other methods of writing, maybe something not so public.

Im sorry to have landed this on anyone who may be reading.

x