i'm feeling really anxious again.

my brother is in the basement, my parents are gone. i feel like the only person in the world for a few minutes. that's when i feel the most anxiety. i don't know what it is. my stomach tightens, like it's being tied in a knot, and i want so badly to be in the middle of the city. or to be with the love of my life, whoever that may be. it makes me want to be in a car with the window open, with my favorite music playing, and even if the wind is cold against my skin, i couldn't care less.

i feel anxious when i seem to be forgotten. when i want to create something spectacular. when i can't seem to pick the right song. or when i picture the love of my life, whoever that may be, doing whatever they may be doing at this precise moment.

it's when i pick the perfect song, and it makes me want to yell out the lyrics, but i bask by myself in the lonely lamp light that fills my room.

it's when i see the pictures from Italy beside my keyboard and want to be there right now. so much it hurts along with everything else i may be feeling.

sometimes at night if my window is open and i can hear dogs outside, i close my eyes tight and think about the noises i hear in Italy. the dog in the alley. i make it so realistic. i make myself excited for the adventures to take place the next day, the ones that will vanish once i sit up in bed and realize i'm still at home.

i get anxious when i want to watch a million different movies at the same time. i can't decide which movie will be perfect, and once i pick the perfect one, i quickly realize it's not how perfect the movie is, it's how perfect the person next to you is.

anxiety is when i can relate perfectly to the lyrics of that song. i get anxious when i'm cold, when my hands are so cold i can barely write. or when i'm so warm and cozy, wishing i was being embraced with someone else's body heat and not my own.

it's the feeling i get when i think about reality. thinking about the next ten years of my life, and when those ten years are finished, i will be expected to have a husband. or have a degree and a steady career, my own place with a fireplace and kitchen. possibly expecting a child, who knows?
i could be living in Europe, or New Zealand. or i could be renting out my old house in Beverly, wishing i was still as tall as that old piece of tape on the wall.

the thing is, .. well i'm not really sure what the thing is. it's hard to choose my words when i can't even choose my feelings.

i think i have to focus on a time when i was truly happy. truly at ease. but even this is hard because happy memories can be depressing.

i think the times when i'm happy without any strings attached is when i sing the lyrics to all my favorite songs, while my attention is diverted to something my hands are doing.. like drawing or writing or doodling or even doing homework.

or maybe this Enrique Iglesias music is getting to me