My brain chews

Angry. Lost feeling. Empty and sincerely unsure of what is happening to my heart.

I hate when my phone doesn't work. Stupid puddles and the power to fuck up my keyboard.
Anger is always bubbling below my skin. I used to be a cool ocean wave. Relaxed, happy, gentle. Now I feel explosive and heated. I feel passionate and lost in moments with lust, then annoyance, followed by self loathing.

Checklists help a day go by quicker. Check, check, CHECK!

My list isn't even near complete. How frustrating. There it is... frustrated.

Lost poetry is always and interesting read. Especially when you realize that it still applies. A lesson between the lines perhaps? I think so. Something I learned before and now I am forcing myself into it again. Because a cycle is how humans work. Soon I will get out of mine and live in a square. Asquare. Some one made that word for me. I like it.

I realized while reading that sometimes I write things that aren't even mine. I watch people on tv or just people in every day public then I write about the emotion I see crossing Their faces or in their words. Not mine at all. I steal it. That is why they come and go. I fill my self and portfolio up with other people's hearts since I seem to be lacking one.

The heart doesn't really feel. It feels pain if you have a heart attack and the like, but not that real emotional pain we attribute to it. I think... Sometimes when someone is leaving me I can feel my chest ache. What is that? Does that mean the heart is the center of emotion? Or is it just your brain torturing me, you?

I want to feel like I have accomplished more, so I have to do more. Write, read, go to the bank. So trivial, and yet it gives me the time I need to think and digest.