unkind nothings

i have nothing to write here. everything is a mess inside of my brain and i'm using old techniques and expecting the outcome to be different. do we ever learn? i think not. at least, i don't think i ever will.
i don't think i'll ever find true satisfaction until i do everything for myself. Until i cut my ties and count my losses. But, at what point does that become easy? And since there is no right or wrong and no greater destiny, then what am i doing anyway? Will life always be so confusing. I envy those who see it as a playground. I'm merely an observer and i write. how completely broing i am.

Human Again

My thoughts have returned. Here i am, 4 days sober and i feel my brain sucking in deep breaths of fresh air and dusting off old thoughts, old ambitions, old habits of the person i once truly enjoyed being. And i thought hollowing out would be a better shell for my insecurity but, it turns out that i was never really insecure. I was just confused. And here i go again, working on ways to becoming the person i envision myself becoming because, i want to be that person so badly and right now, the two contrasting persons i am are nowhere close to finding a balance. I'm either one or the other. I'm loud, arrogant, peppy, talkative Whitney or i'm quiet, pensive, serious, intelligent Whitney with thoughts behind thoughts. But all of my visual and audible portrals are simply falsehoods to the person that lies beneath them. Layer behind false layer of a person who has seemingly got her shit together. But really, i'm still scrambling around picking up scraps and building a model of the perfect human being. And at least now, with everything out of my system, i feel myself clearing the wooded path and walking with more sun light.
What a numbing hell it's been. To feel nothing is to be nothing and to be nothing is a waste of being something. My life is full of what it needs to be full of. Love, music, words, sadness, happiness, beauty, romance and kindness. The key elements to the nature of my character in this life. I will be more but, for now, that's enough to scrape by on. I'm only 24, after all.