Did I move from being like this to like that or have I been fooled by myself that I am actually always like that but pretended to be like this, but always thought that being like this is well, me?

I wish I feel more. If I feel rage, at least I can scream into my pillow and hit my fist. Or poke holes into photos. If I feel pain, at least I can cry and hurt. If I feel happy enough, at least I would bother to do something more interesting than painting my picture frames black (though honestly, they look so good with the postcards).

Well at least something. At least motivation to move from this state of zero emo to something. I'm sorry for all the promises to go to this place and that. And then not turning up, not picking up or just sleeping. But it's not my fault. I'm locked in my house. I cannot think. Don't ask me.

I wish I'm busy. It will help alot.