Reincarnation:How to write in a dead mans diary
Perception. The one true variable that separates us all,the link that has rusted and threatens to break the chain. Often the way we perceive our own reality,the manner in which we include others into our reality is what makes us who we are. Or who we seem to be. Light penetrating the dirty window into our souls revealing ,crumpled in the corner,our true selves. There a few remaining who see reason to seek that feeling, of knowing. Even fewer are the reasons for seeking,especially if you have already previously encountered what you may find...
It's strange,like watching home movies for the first time sober and alone. Peering in on a distant past,seeing a smile on the face of a relative you lost and feeling that tinge of happiness as though they were in fact there with you,smiling,and not only a memory. We desperately cling to those images for a second of happiness even though we know sadness and remorse will follow once the picture is gone. We sadistic creatures constantly torture ourselves even for a fraction of satisfaction.Reading through pages of dusted over memories that belong to no one,or perhaps someone whose fingers have long since been at rest.Seeing now the answers to former problems bright and obvious though there is nothing that can take you back to solve them...
This is where the guilt,the anguish and the anger have formed a tight fist around your throat. Threatening to choke you,forcing you to find a way to expel them as it seems they will never stop growing,scratching at the base of your brain. Throwing the bottle at the wall,watching it explode into millions of tiny shards.That is all it would take,throwing it away and never giving it a second thought. It is only with a sober tongue that speaking seems tough and dry,digging through mounds of sand for the right words. But it is the right way,with clean veins to proceed through life,the self proclaimed second chance. Though the rage at times seems a distance oasis,a place that hardly exists. Day by day you trudge on,the load getting no lighter, your tongue dry and docile.You are a creature of habit,a drone to the will of the righteous,your feet plodding down the beaten path fit poorly in the footprints left by those before you.By night you dream of dropping your baggage and making a run to it, that oasis you have seen so clearly in your mind. You have been there,lived there,withered and died there and now your body writhes in agony to do it all over again. To dive headlong into the rage,into the tangled vines of selfishness and never once wonder what is on the other side.
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"So many things I feel the need to say and do will be taken to the grave if it means you will be happy..."
For years and years I struggled to destroy myself. I fought with myself endlessly with a clouded mind like two beings in one each fighting to be the only. I was shown many things in my short life time,told stories and manipulated to fit in many of those stories. I was appreciated,I was unappreciated. I was idolized and taken for granted. That was me,just a person in so many different eyes,I meant so many different things so many different people but I never truly knew what I meant to myself. So many days I felt my mind was too compact to hold all of these feelings and thoughts,drugging myself almost seemed necessary as I had to find some escape from the various realities I was living in. Being inebriated created some kind of solace,a truce between the different Freds if just temporarily. All of those days and nights I lied to myself,I lied to you but I ALWAYS knew the truth, always. Why I never did anything right will always be a question running through my head no matter where I am or how old I get. Why didn't I? Give myself to you completely,live a life that promised pains and happiness,learn more about the soul I was so in love with and so afraid of...Build myself up for the success I secretly knew I was capable of achieving but never able to handle...Take that final step I convinced myself I deserved...I could have done things so differently.You knew it and I knew it,I always could have done things differently.
What once was a child who saw the colors so brightly turned into a empty creature. I don't know how it happened and I don't know why I beat myself the way that I did. Years of life not seeing a day without smoke in my eyes or poison in my veins, spitting out words not meant for anyone to hear and fucking everything up. I tried to convince everyone that I was someone who never actually existed for reasons that I may never know. I was there all along,watching myself slip away,staying silent when I really wanted to scream. I let that feeling of worthlessness hold me back and this other persona me took over.Destroying relationships,putting me in the wrong places at the wrong time,making promises I never intended to keep,forcing me to drown myself. So many times I want to apologize and I will never get the chance,now I know how absolute regret feels. As though I cursed someone I loved on their deathbed,I will not get the chance to make things right until I too take my final breath. Sadness and anger are demons that will always threaten to hijack my soul but I cannot let myself fail.No matter how my heart aches,I am no longer living for me and it is not my happiness that I must strive to attain.
I longed for that darkness,for quiet and for sobriety but I thought the only way to have that for myself would be death. All I really wanted was the ability to stop thinking for a moment, to hear only one voice,to be my true self without shame. I was ignorant and wasteful and everyone saw that but me. I can't say I had no idea what I was doing to myself, I knew full well and for some reason I was so proud of myself for killing me. That never will matter to me but the pain that I saw so many times in the eyes of those who had to eventually cut me free will always haunt me. As I look back I see faint memories but its like looking through the eyes of a ghost. Things don't seem clear to me,I cannot force myself to feel the same...That is how I know I finally got the death I prayed for. That person no longer exists and even though I know it was me I also know it isn't the me that lives today. I read through journals, I see pictures and I know those are the words and the eyes of a dead being. And only now do I miss myself and appreciate the thoughts and feelings I had. I see what you saw now and I am sorry I let that person suffer and eventually disappear. It is something I will live with for the rest of this life and I will mourn silently. Not one murderer has the right to apologize and feel sorry even though they do it anyway,they cannot say it out loud. That is their true punishment,I know that now.
There is always hope. The pain you have to go through to get that second chance is nothing short of death but nothing is more worth fighting for. There are few loves in this life that can change who you are,hold on to them at all costs. Skin,bone,blood regenerates even after the worst injury its just how you allow yourself to heal...I guess.