I Have Control Again

I'm finally numb. I'm rejoicing, really happy. And the best part about it all, is that I have control again. I can control how heavy the feelings are, I can control whether or not I even want to think about the problem at the moment. I'm back. Finally... I've been waiting for this for several months now, and I've finally gotten it back. This probably doesn't seem like a huge deal to any of you guys, but this is great news for me... I feel powerful again... In control... Completely back in control. Now I know that the person who was hurting me is nothing too special, nobody worth crying for. And I'm done crying, done letting my pillow absorb my salty tears. I'm done bleeding for now, but I'm not going to pick at it until it is nothing more than a faint scar.

Internally decaying. Cries and cries until the pain leaves me. Sitting on the floor next to my bed, numb. Finally.

My Mind Is A Burning Empire

I feel so stupid... I feel so vulnerable... So worthless... Nothing is what it seemed to be, and I guess that's the thing that hurts the most; the fact that I allowed myself to fall in love with an apparition, then be ripped to shreds when the real person behind it lets themselves be known. I'm burning down inside, but the flames are beginning to die down, and the ashes are finally settling. Soon, there will be nothing left, nothing to see, nothing to feel. I"m waiting for that. But it seems like every time the ashes finally settle, someone fans the flames again, scorching my heart, and I can hardly handle it. I should've known that nothing would last; I should have seen that my trust was going to be betrayed, that I would fade back into the background as if I never even existed in the first place. Is that what I was? Just someone you could drain, just so you could move on to the next? You had me convinced... But now I just feel stupid.

Gone.

I Don't Even Know...

Why am I always on the brink of failure?? I always let myself fall down to right above the failing line... I really need to break this habit... I can do everything else just fine, but when it comes down to what really counts in the long run, I have a lack of motivation. I always let myself get super distracted. I don't know why. I'm capable of forcing myself to clean, to write, to read, but not when it's for a class... What the hell is wrong with me? I really need to get back onto this train, and stay on this time. I don't want to be on a role the whole first two weeks of the marking period, then fall off again. And now I have pressure to just get the hell out of here... My (boy)friend basically told me that I was our only chance out of here, this stupid city... Well, now I'm really feeling it.

Positive Turning Point

Okay, so even though school is finally over (and has been over for the past month and a few days...) and this blog was for my creative writing class, I have grown quite attached to it over the past few months, and have decided that I'm not going to give up on it... This has been my vent for the a while and I like it... I like putting my feelings out there, even if the only people reading them are randoms strangers on the internet and my teacher... It feels like I have nothing to hide, because nobody can really judge me. Yeah, I think I'm here to stay... I've been very happy lately, and perhaps it has A LOT to do with the fact that school has been over, and I can just do me. I don't have to go by the bell, I don't have to turn in a ton of homework, I'm a lot less stressed, and I think I found someone who is perfect for me. He is really the definition of great, you know? He loves all of the things that I love, and he just is so accepting... He is obsessed with soccer, and he loves acting. He is so serious about what he's passionate about, and that in itself is enough to attract me to him. He is really just great. My mom still has to get used to the likes of him, but I have a feeling he's going to be around for a while. He's so respectful, and understanding, he's almost perfect in almost every way. I love his flaws, too, though. Like his anger problems... We never really clash, but when he does get angry, it's for a legitimate reason... I don't know, I just really feel like I have something to be happy about for once. I mean, considering how depressed I was most of the time I wrote on this blog, this is positive turning point, don't you think?

Echo

I hear                                                                                                         You hear
laughter                                                                                                      sobbing
in the corridor.                                                                                           in the corridor.


Someone                                                                                                    She is
sewn                                                                                                           torn
back together.                                                                                            back apart.


Teary eyed,                                                                                                Teary eyed,
red cheeked,                                                                                               red cheeked,
they laugh.                                                                                                 she cries.


They clutch                                                                                                She clutches
their stomach                                                                                             her arm
in a delightful pain.                                                                                    in a bleeding pain.


I hear a door                                                                                               You hear a door,
opening,                                                                                                      closing,
closing.                                                                                                       opening.


I hear                                                                                                           You hear
sobbing                                                                                                        laughter
through the walls.                                                                                        coming towards you.


                                                   We are crashing.

War Cry

I am a soldier, tearing through battle. I used to fight so well, defending rights, but now I'm tired. Weak. Battered. Bloodied. I've got multiple open wounds, and they're all bleeding black. I stomp through the rain with the rest of the army, all the troops crazed and beaten, bleeding and mentally screwed. We all know that none of us will be the same coming off of this battlefield. We all clutch out rifles to our chests, the only things we trust; the only things we have left to protect.

Summer... What Should I Do???

I only have four more official days left of school (thank god), and, even though I really want school to be over, I've just realized that I have no life, and what the hell am I going to do when school is over?? Sit at home, do nothing? At this point, that seems like a solid plan. I mean, I've got nothing better to do. Literally, after the new season of Orange is the New Black is released, and I've finished it (which I will probably do over night), there is nothing to do. Of course, I write, but sometimes, I have to walk away from what I've been writing long term for a while, or else I won't be able to look at it with the same feelings I had about it when I started. So, when I'm leaving a piece alone, what will there be for me to do? I get bored with the internet and social media way too easily to even think about relying on that. I like to read, but I also don't want to read all of the available books before we've even reached the middle of summer. I'm going camping sometime this summer, which is cool, and I also have a (sort of) summer job lined up with my uncle at his store, which is also cool. But what else? These are all things that I do every summer. Is there anything else that I could do?

Distracted

I've been very distracted lately. Everything seems to catch my attention at once, and I don't know where to look, so I just sit there, waiting for some of the distractions to fade away so that I can focus on one thing at a time. I know it's also partially my fault, because now I'm waist deep in work that I have to make up and people I have to apologize to, but I just don't know where to start. I don't want to blame it on things that aren't related, but I really feel like they take part in my distracted state. I feel like nothing matters anymore. Things that I used to care about are all slowly fading into the background of my seemingly worthless busy life. I feel like breaking down crying and choking on laughter at the same time. I have so much to deal with, and so little time, so little me left. People always expect so much from me, when I had nothing to give in the first place.

"In the darkest night, the faintest light is blinding."
- Crown The Empire

Positive Music Rant... Warning: Twenty One Pilots

Oh. My. God. I know that if you know me personally, you know that I do this every time one of my favorite bands/artists releases a new album, or even just a single. But, oh my God, Blurry Face really is one of the most poetic, raw, beautiful albums I've ever listened to. If you haven't listened to this album yet, open a new tab (right now!) ans start listening to it before you continue reading. This album is so dynamic, the vocals aren't flawless (which, I promise you, is exactly the point), and the lyrics are perfectly written and placed. Tyler Joseph, whatever you were on when writing this album... Ugh! Just give me your drugs.

I feel like my favorite song is Fairly Local, but at the same time, I'm pretty sure that's just my bias kicking in. Fairly Local was the first song I heard from Blurry Face (then Stressed Out, then Tear In My Heart) since it was released before the album was. I really love this song, because, even thought the hook repeats itself (as it should), the verses are exact polar (haha, Polarize) opposites. It's so simple and complex all at the same time. Stressed Out is basically the story of my life, and I love the music video for Tear In My Heart. 

The first song from the album that I heard after the entire album was released was Lane Boy, which I love. Besides Fairly Local, however, I think my next favorite song would be Goner. The way this song is written is so amazing. I literally cried the first time I listened to it. In class. No joke. This album has been the one thing that's kept me above the surface since it was released and I'm not ever going to stop appreciating it.

When The Tears Run Dry

What do you do when there are no tears left to sob? What is there left to do? You just sit there, wishing that, as the tears left your eyes, so did the pain from your heart. But that's not how it works. Ha, I wish. When there are no tears left, more likely than not, you sit there, willing them back,, willing your eyes to fill back up. I feel like tears are a result of your heart overfilling with pain, and the pain has to escape somehow, so it spills out of your eyes. When you have no more tears left to cry, then it's more likely than not that your heart isn't overfilling anymore. Crying released the excessive hurt, and now what's left in your heart is about enough to tolerate. Barely enough.

"The nightmare is slowly taking over..."
Famous Last Words

Where Did The Sadness Come From?

I suppose I've been feeling a little better lately. As soon as I set foot in this building, all of the happiness I managed to paste in my mind melted away. It's too hot, too loud here for anything to stick for long. I feel terrible, and the initial happiness bliss that follows a solution to a problem has worn, and now, all that is left is a pounding headache, creaky bones, and a wish to be somewhere else.

The Ledge

I'm just above the surface, still victim to the whirlpool that's trying to drag me below. I can't remember how to swim, and I'm close to giving up this fight. The water disappears suddenly, and I'm on a ledge. Not a ledge. The ledge. I feel like if someone were to push me a centimeter further, I would tumble over the edge. I don't want to fall, but I feel like there is nothing else I could do, no other options. Please, if you see someone who you might think is feeling the same way as I, approach them. Promise me you won't make them feel worse about what is going on in their minds. I've backed down, for now. But what happens when I'm feeling unusually impulsive, and I've had a (usually) bad day? What happens when my moral compass is tampered with, broken, and I turn in the wrong direction? Do I completely swerve off the edge?

"It's the few, the proud, and the emotional."
- Twenty One Pilots

Trying To Be Happy

My life consists of being ignored. I hate it when people ask, "What's wrong?" Then, when you're telling them what's wrong, they're looking past you, over your shoulder, trying to block out whatever you're telling them. Why did you ask if you aren't going to care? Me telling you what's wrong is me trusting you with the burden I'm carrying, trusting you to listen. Not listening is breaking that promise. I don't care if you're not going to care. Fine by me. But if you tell me you care, just so you can half halfheartedly hear what I'm saying, I'd rather you didn't.

If I Died...

What if I died? Would you cry? Would you mourn? Would you continue on with your life, as if I was still alive? Would you be angry with me for passing at such an inconvenient time? Would you be frozen, stuck in one place? Would the memories we shared burn you down? Would you simply be numb, with no feeling left at all? Would you consider death yourself? Would you go through each day for the rest of your life, wondering why I left so soon, what you could have done to save me? Would you attend my funeral, or stay home alone? Would you honor me with music, or defile my death wish by mourning me is the screaming silence? Would you think of nothing more than my rotting flesh beneath the ground, or the soul that was once bound to my body having been freed?

Think about it; the question isn't if, but a matter of when. Someday, I'll die. I will be gone, with no way of reaching me, and you will still have to consider what you would do...

"We're gonna die, it's just a matter of time. Hard times come, good times go."
- Fall Out Boy

"Sometimes Quiet Is Violent" -Twenty One Pilots

Leaving me alone in the quiet brings about thrashing thoughts, thoughts that are designed to destroy. Destroy me, I'm assuming. I'm not easy to crumble, but it's not easy for me to stay standing, either. The silence is the most painful thing. The silence before a storm, the silence following a horrible argument. The seemingly peaceful quiet before someone finally explodes. I think I'm going to explode one day, and anyone around me is going to fall to their knees. 

"If my heart is a grenade, you pull the pin and say..."

- Fall Out Boy

I Wrote This In Global

I'm sinking lower and lower, when will I just hit the bottom? I really feel like I just don't care anymore, like all the things that once mattered to me the most have lost all meaning in my eye. I feel like I am slowly dying, crumbling from the inside out. What I don't understand is how my foundation has fallen, and yet, I'm still standing. Drain out the poison that's in my heart, the venom in my tongue. If you do, will there be anything left of me? My sickness seems to be what makes me who I am, my sharp tongue a definition, a signature of my personality. What will I be if all the anger and hatred is leeched out of me?

"My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction."
- Tahereh Mafi
Shatter Me

I Have Literally No Idea What I'm Doing With My Life

I feel so cast off by the world, as if I don't belong here, which is what I've come to believe. I always feel like I'm just sitting there, waiting for something meaningful to happen in my life. I'm trying to pull myself up out of this goddamn hole, but it's hard to do when not all of you wants to get up. Every time I try to pull myself back up again, I notice another piece of me missing again. Lately, it's been my ability to feel. What kills me the most is that most things I would normally care about are slipping away from me, away from my mind, like I just don't care anymore. I promise, I want to care...

"Cause sometimes to stay alive, you gotta kill your mind."
- Twenty One Pilots

Where Did I Go?

I miss the person that I used to be. Or the person that I thought I used to be. I retrospect, I don't know if I ever knew myself in the first place, if I was just lying to myself the entire time, hiding me from myself. I miss feeling things. I have literally become numb inside. It seems to be slowly eating away at me, devouring any crumbs left behind of emotions. I see old things that I did, remember old things that I had, think to myself, where did they all go? I know these things didn't define me, but there were things that used to come with me being myself that have dissolved away with time. I'm just waiting to return to who I was once, the person I despised. Now all I want is to be that person again.

It's Almost Over!!!

Oh. My. God. Thank you. This show has been destroying me, inside and out. I enjoy the itself, and the being onstage part, but the time it takes to do this, to perfect it, it's all too much. I haven't done my homework all week, because I've been in rehearsal until 9 all week. What do I do when I get home, you ask? I eat (maybe) then go to sleep. Who the flub has time to do five classes worth of homework, when the get home at almost 10 at night? No one. Tonight will be the last rehearsal for this show, and tomorrow is opening night. Saturday, as a result of an altercation I got into on Monday, I have Saturday detention, then I can go home for a few hours and then come back to school. The administrator that assigned me to the detention should go to hell. I despise him. He has no consideration, and the problem wasn't even that big of a deal. We were arguing. Wow, such a big deal, that I need Saturday detention. Now, when I go home Friday night, I have no choice but to go straight to bed so that I can be back at school at 9. I hate that man. We have a show Sunday, too. Then we have matinees Tuesday through Thursday. No school on Friday, but we still have to come in at 5 for the call. My life and time is so strained right now, thank God this is almost over...

Nobody Should Be Alone

Everyone that I try to tell about the way that I'm feel (which I am not going to openly state on this blog), they try to tell me what's wrong with me. Finding out what's wrong with me isn't the problem. I already know what's wrong. I just need help dealing with it. The people in this world have absolutely no consideration. I mean, who asked to have depression? Some people have it because the burdens they once carried have become too heavy for them to lift anymore, and so now, they just sit there, staring at them all spilling out of the bag on the floor, wondering when they will ever be able to pick them back up again. Then there are the people who are born with it. Either way, nobody asked to go through this struggle, especially not alone. Nobody should have to go through this alone. Everyday, dragging yourself out of bed, floating through life on auto pilot, trying to make sense of the things going on around you, while you remain engrossed in your thoughts. Who the hell asked for this? No one. But who is asking for help, screaming from the inside out for someone to come and make them feel like a human being again? All of us.

Pleading

Would you please stand still long enough to show you care?
Could you please shut up long enough for me to find my voice?
Could you please listen hard enough to decipher the anger from the hurt?
Can you please close your eyes and try to feel the pain?
Can you please care enough to extract these suicidal thoughts from my mind?
Would you please understand me enough to taste my tears?
Could you please be fast enough to stop the blood?
Can you please feel enough to stop me from hurting me?

I. Don't. Want. To. Die.

Stand still, shut up, listen hard, close your eyes, care enough, please understand me, be fast enough to stop me. I. Don't. Want. To. Die.

Lyrics...

These lyrics make me wonder, sometimes... I mean will it?

I'm So Tired

Everything has been a huge blur for me, lately. I'm scared that my grades have gone down, even though (most of them) are fine. I'm passing. That's not the problem. The problem is, I feel like, any second, I'm going to drop. Dead. I'm going to drop from exhaustion. I'm going to drop from the weight on my shoulders, and once I fall, it's going to crush the air out of me, until there is nothing left. I've had better days, and, obviously, today isn't one of them. I've gotten to the point where I only feel one of two things: either really down and sad and depressed, or I just feel empty inside. I don't know why. I've been meaning to get therapy, but I still haven't. The only thing I have that is close to therapy is music, but I haven't even had time to listen to it. I try, but every time I do, I am reminded of something else that I have to do that is, supposedly, more important than finding a cure to this Plague spreading through my body. One day, it's going to eat the rest of my soul, and leave me both dead and alive; a walking corpse.

Smudged Ink

And so now I fall back into my bottomless pit of depression. I wrote out my life, but someone spilled coffee on it, and now I can't remember who I was. These wet, stained pages are all I have left of me, and Logic sits in my mind, frustrated with me for being so stupid, for pouring out all my feelings from my pen, leaving them exposed and vulnerable. The people around me only make it worse; they all seem to float effortlessly through the crisp air, while I watch from below the surface, shackled to the confines of my own murky waters.

In Between

I feel like I've been floating through life, lately, living in my mind. I feel like I'm floating on that in between, like when you're not exactly asleep, not exactly awake. Like I'm barely existing, just there, lingering in the background of someone else's life. I have become a ghost, except I don't have any of the cool perks that a real ghost would have, like walking through walls, and I'm not really dead. I just feel like I am. I feel like I'm not seen, not heard, not alive. If I am, I'm barely living. Just another person, lingering here on this planet for a little longer, wondering when I'm going to die, if anyone will notice.

Friday!!!

Yay! It's Friday! I'm so done with this flubbing school. I can now just go home and enjoy the delights of not having to deal with people (only for a couple hours, then my mom gets home). I can listen to music without someone telling me to take my earbuds out. I honestly feel like it should be illegal to tell a student that is listening to music to take their earbuds out; I mean, if they were being productive, I don't see how the music was at all a distraction. For me, music is pretty necessary to keep me focused, and I'm not just saying that as an argument against the rule. I'm serious. I am a lot more focused with music playing that without it. Right now, I'm listening to music, while being productive.

Anyway, back to thoughts on Friday. Tomorrow, I technically have to be here, in support of all the Creative Writing majors (for all of you don't know, I go to an arts school, and I major in Creative Writing). It's called the Playwright's Festival, and basically, today, I go and introduce myself as an actor, and then the writers write plays based on what costumes and props the actors brought. Then, the next day (tomorrow), the actors come in and rehearse their scripts. Later that night, we perform. It's pretty intense and cut throat, but fun. I'm excited. Also, I'm in The Addams Family, so after introducing myself, I go straight to rehearsal. My weekend is pretty packed. But after I have basically the whole week to do what I want.

I'm going to Canada on Tuesday, which should be interesting, considering the fact that I'm going with my best friend. I'm just waiting to see how that turns out. We'll see, I guess.

Why?

I feel so alone in this world, no matter how many people are around me, talking to me. All their words bleed together into an orb of sound that I want so badly to avoid. I am better off alone, and people don't understand that until I am forcing myself away from them, isolating myself. I suppose you could say it was my fault for staying involved, but, while I enjoy my solitude, I can't bring myself to hurt their feelings. So I try to leave hints that I'm broken, too broken to put back together, and no one wants me. No one should want me. Just leave me alone. When I'm alone, I'm better. All I need is myself, solitude, and the words of authors and lyricists to keep me alive. Barely alive, but when am I actually going to be alive, anyways? I'm always barely above the surface of the water, barely breathing, and one day, someone is going to push me under and hold me there until I die. All our lives, us humans stumble and trudge through our lives, searching for things like happiness, peace. There is only one place that you can actually find these things; in your mind. If you spend your whole life, searching for something like an apparition, that will never really be there, I must say, you're stupid. These things only exist in you head. They aren't real. If you can finally come to terms with that, and find that happiness that you've been searching for somewhere in the back of you mind, buried in a dusty, old chest, then you might actually be going somewhere. I know I'm not.

Plague

This plague is contagious
to those who fall easily.
It passes from person to person,
eating away at their minds.
Well, it starts with the mind.
It steals away your happy memories,
your good thoughts,
replacing them with the dense,
wide blackness that begins to take over.
This void opens up,
swallowing all of your self esteem,
your ability to look at yourself through the world's eyes.
Or worse;
you see yourself through nothing but the world's eyes.
The Plague then begins to devour your soul,
breaking off bits and pieces at a time,
until you're on your knees.
Until you have the razor to your wrist,
the pills in your hand,
standing on the ledge,
wanting nothing more than to
Die.

Live In The Lyrics

When I feel like I'm going to hurt someone (maybe even myself) I just turn on music. It's the most effective remedy, for me, at least. No matter what you're feeling, there has to be a song out there that you can relate to your situation or predicament. I use music to drown out my mind, forget life for a moment, just live in the lyrics. Music has always been there for me, as corny as that sounds, and that's why I get extremely offended when people insult it. When you're insulting music, you're insulting someone else's work.

Staying Strong

Do you ever have those days where you feel like everyone is trying to stop you from succeeding, standing right in front of you, blocking your path? Lately, this has been everyday. It's difficult to stay strong, stand your ground when you have people walking right beside you the whole time, putting their foot out in front of you, hoping you'll fall. People who have everything don't understand what they're taking away from those who are already without. Like pretty girls, conceited girls; they have a great self esteem, and their view of the world is different because of that. They, most of the time, think that everyone has the same self esteem level, everyone feels as good about themselves, and they make it their mission to tear it down. What they don't even realize is that their stripping wallpaper off of an already bare wall when they try to make me feel worse about myself. The only thing that keeps me poised is the thought that they don't know any better; they're ignorant. They're obviously ignorant to the fact that them acting on the way I feel about myself is in vein; I've already hit rock bottom, and I don't have the power to pull out the jackhammer, go beneath the surface. They can't make me feel worse about myself. It's utterly impossible.

Practical Jokes And Things

The Thief of Always, Prompt #5

I remember one time, I made my stepdad cry. We all remember going through that phase, when you're about eight, you don't want listen to anyone, no matter who it is, right? Well, I'm still kind of going through that phase. Anyway, he told be to do something that I didn't want to do. It was probably something really stupid, considering the fact that I don't even remember what he told me to do. Whatever it was that he said, it made me mad. When I'm angry, most of the time, I strike back silently, psychologically, and that's exactly what I did. I went upstairs to my room and called his cellphone from the house phone, making sure that I dialed *67. He answered the phone.

"Hello?" I could almost imagine him sitting on the couch in the living room, watching T.V, only prepared to half listen to what I was saying.

"Yeah, is this James?" I deepened my voice, because I thought it would disguise the way I really sounded; like an eight year old girl. It seemed to work, though.

"Yeah. Who's this?"

I turned the phone away from me for a moment so I could laugh my success off, silently, of course. "You know who this is."

I heard him sigh before saying, "No, I don't. That's why I asked who this was."

I stifled another laugh before replying, "Stop playing, man. You know who this is." I didn't give him the chance to say anything else. "Where's my money, James?"

"I don't have your money. Why would I have your money? Who is this?"

"You know who this is. Tell me where the money is. I gave you the dope, you give me the money. That's the deal we had."

He didn't speak for a minute, then he finally said, "You mean dope, like, drugs?"

I smiled, playing the part. "Yes. You good now? We're finally on the same page?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Good. But I really want my money, James. I'm outside." I moved out of my room to the top of the stairs, straining to hear if he'd gotten up to look or not. Apparently, he had.

"I don't see you." He sounded as if he was doubting me.

"I'm out back, you idiot. You think I'd want to have to kill you in front of a bunch of witnesses? Don't even bother coming out until you have to money." With that, I hung up. I waited a minute, then went downstairs to see how the call had worked on him.

When I got into the living room, I saw him pacing back and forth in front of the T.V, tears streaming down his face. I broke out laughing. It was just too perfect.

Delicate Beauty

The Thief of Always, Prompt #3

 Something short, delicate. It doesn't last long, for it always melts between the fingers of uncaring beings. Beauty blooms here, sprouting through the soil that, just a month ago, was frozen solid. The air is filled with the scent of flowers and approaching rainstorms, a fragrant mist that looms over the petals of the new buds. The luminous clouds finally break, allowing a refreshing downpour to pummel the earth below.  The sky bellows in triumph, lightning climbs through the clouds. The soil absorbs the sky's tears of happiness, the buds drinking heartily. The clouds separate, revealing the sun that had been hiding there all along. The buds drink in the sun's rays. The water in the sidewalks evaporate, the street returning to dry. Soon, the peacefulness of this beauty will give in to the sweltering heat of summer.