Monday, 24 October 2011
Oh, I'm fucking out of control. My mind is whispering, "Come out and play," but my body does not act. I would lose my mind, but I would be fucking free. Nothing is fucking genuine. Nothing insane. Let my dark side come out. I want it to be me. I want to lose control. Fear is keeping me back. My mind wants to control my body. The demons come out at night and when I am close to sleeping. I am their puppet then. I close my eyes and I see my potential bravery, my words outspokern. I will break, and it will go one of two ways (or both) - I will breathe a breath of fresh air, or I will shatter into a million pieces. Either way, I will be gloriously free. I feel myself cracking - I have been for a while. I know I am wanted somewhere. My mind cannot think. I am tired. Bullshit is spouted. I wanna fucking bang my head. It's fucking dizzy as fuck. Where the fuck am I going with this? I lay my head down and I see fucked up images. Flying rainbow giraffes, and poodle heads on human legs. I hear my demons beckoning me. They want me to play. "Soon," I answer. Very soon.
Saturday, 15 October 2011
I am sometimes so afraid to say what I think, and I almost always want to recant what I say, think, or write so that the order of things are not disturbed. I hate disturbing the order of things after I do it, because I always end up with the consequences that I just do not like to deal with. Now that I think about it, while I am in a state of anxiety which pops up at the worst of times, I just feel like being in a state of peace. Of course, I'd like to imagine that I could find the courage to rebel, and be free, but that would be disasterous, for I would have to deal with consequences of anxiety, discomfort, and things not lining up with the status quo. Right now, I just wanna fall asleep. I almost never support my decisions, for I do not have confidence in myself. I do not believe I am right. Ever. I realize that I act like I do, but I do not. I just cannot take myself seriously. I am not good enough. Even as I write this, I am wondering what people would say if they saw this. They wouldn't believe it. I barely believe it, for I feel like a fake. I am unoriginal. I am robotic in nature, if robots could be depressed. My eyes are drooping to the lullaby. I just do not want to hear their words. I cannot bare my soul to the world. I want to hide in my shell. I do not trust anyone. They are most likely mocking me, but I thankfully turn my music louder, so I cannot hear them. It's only the end of the songs and the transitions to the next songs that I dread, because I can briefly hear their words. Oh, God! Here comes the end of a song. Thankfully something loud fills my ears. A rebellious song about America, I believe, by System of a Down. Music is usually there for me, which I am thankful for. I breathe the song in, but then it abruptly ends. Another song, loud and beautiful, pours into my ears. What I would give to be in hiding right now, curled up in my bed, taking in the much needed sleep. It seems no one is talking very much. How much do people talk of me? I wonder if the teacher notices me. If she does, I don't care anyway. I am out in the open and as far as I am concerned, I'm done with the things I need to do. I wonder if she thinks I am texting. I hope she knows better that this is not a phone. I also hope she knows I have no one to text to. I guess that is fine, I was more of a loner anyway. I, of course, still am, even if I have a twin sister. She doesn't want much to do with me nowadays. Says that we spend too much together. But, I believe she goes through the same things as I do. I'd like to think so, which would mean we are closer than I could imagine. But she couldn't admit something like that. Hell, I can't. I am only myself when I am alone and independent. Independence is something I can never dream to fully gain. They're still talking. The anxiety returns. Anxiety is something I usually get when I get too excited over something that doesn't matter in the long run. I welcome it small quantities in the middle of the day in a different setting. But I usually have it in large quantities when I try to fall asleep. I have always had a problem with insomnia. Damn. Why is the sun shining in my midst when I do not wish it to. This place usually does not have sunlight. It's not usually this unnaturally warm either. I wish I could plop my head on this desk and fall asleep right on the spot, but my fear of the substantial loss of time would get to me. I hold back on everything. On sleeping. On connections. On my convictions. On hoping to find love. I just wish I could let go.
But, I can never.
But, I can never.