I invite you to look into, and come behind, my eyes

The soft spring of a mattress yielding under my body.

Soft, crisp autumn air swirling around my skin.

Here I am again. Alone.

There is something about waking up and realising that no one gives a fuck as to when you do and what you want to do with the rest of your day.

And still people try to be productive. People want to do something great with their lives (they probably won’t, in the grand scheme of things. The only significant action would be reproduction which further extends their gene lifespan).

Guess what? I don’t.

I am just a barely-adult person who craves that sensation when you’re asleep. Sleep is a healing process- the body automatically detoxifies itself and  rearranges the neurotic (ha!) lining in the brain so that when you wake up, the groggy fog has been dissipated.

So soft. So supple. I could stay here in this bed forever.

The wind rises outside and jolts the bare branches into a violent sway and an ocean of rustling sounds come rushing to my ears.

I am really irresponsible for not going to my classes. Yet I am not. I am savouring life before me. Is that not the biggest compliment I can give to life itself?

–

A Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) has an extra-sensitive nervous system that can, in case of too much stimuli, cause them to become overwhelmed and basically frazzled.

-an excerpt from yesterday

The very phenomenon of sight itself presses against my eyelids and the sharpness of the colours saturates my brain. Every feeling is exquisite: each sliver of beauty awe inspiring and every pang of pain overwhelming.

In class, I feel like fainting. Each fragment of knowledge I receive in the form of verbally uttered sentence intensifies the terrifying sensation that the objects before me are trying to force themselves into my forehead. Everything is too bright. There are too many people. Too many feelings in one room.

–

A Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) is often highly empathetic.