(no subject)
Who am I?
And who am I but the lonely road that I stand on, the fine line that I walk between death and insanity. The winding, weaving trail cluttered with the remains of everything that I've ever asked for, and the only thing I've ever wanted. Long before I ever asked myself why, I knew the answer. You spoke to me and told me your name and I only wondered why you stayed. And who am I but the sinking feeling in my gut, ever lower and entrenched in shame. Guilt has no enemies but I have many. So many lies and lives torn, scorned for believing for one second that I had anything to offer. And you were always there, strong and loving, wishing. But change is a chance I'm not willing to take. For all the worlds riches, I'd rather be poor. And who am I but the last shred of dignity in my heart, as I see you and him and your smiling eyes. How he takes your hand and heeds your command and you flow wistfully together, day and night. And he takes your lips, your hand, your heart. And no amount of tears could stop the blade as it tears my skin, crimson pools at my feet. And who am I but death incarnate, because no amount of anguish demands such action. And the world shakes and shudders at my feet, when the lights go out. And no last moment could be more perfect as your hands take mine. Your feet bare and drenched in the ocean I've created. And your tears meet mine, and fade to red like a fancy wine. And who am I but God himself?
So anyways, I watched a movie tonight called Thirteen. I can't say whether or not I liked it, just that I'd recommend it. After watching it, I really just wanted to smoke a cigarette. It stressed me out a little because it reminded me of me. I mean, I'm nothing like this little girl, but I've been down that road of destruction. I've been sucked into these pits of despair, and I noticed a pattern in my life. When I feel myself falling, I go for the cover up. I'm not the type to fess up, admit my mistakes, and do my best to move on. I cover it up and make it worse. And I keep covering it up as the problem grows and grows. And when it explodes, I run. I noticed that as a basic theme in my life. I decided to quit doing that, by the way. I'm waking up at 9 AM tomorrow and beginning a new life. This time, I'll admit my mistakes. I'll get through it and beyond it without covering it up. I can't just move every time life doesn't go my way. I won't have anywhere to live after a long enough time line. There are places in the world right now that I can never go back to if I don't want to face jailtime or death. I know what jail is like... I don't like it much.
I don't know what death is like, but now is most certainly not the time.
I don't want this to happen to another place.
I feel like writing some more, but I think I burned out my creativity on that first one. I haven't been writing much lately, other than today and yesterday of course. It's been months.
Does anyone in the world actually have structure in their life? I mean, I've been working at it for a long time now, and I've still got nothing. I can't manage a schedule for shit. I can't force myself to fall asleep, and most of the time I can't force myself to wake up. I feel hopeless about it, but 5 hours from now, I'm going to do my best to change it. 5 hours from now I'm going to wake up and physically exhaust myself. Then tomorrow evening, hopefully, I'm going to sleep like I haven't in years. Then I'm going to demand it of myself every day. I have to win this battle, or I am hopeless. Do you know how many classes I've missed this semester because I can't figure out how to wake myself up?
I'll be lucky if I pass all my classes.
I was thinking this evening about what it means to be functional in society. I can't say that I have been recently, but I don't really know anyone who is. But then I looked into my classes and I saw people functioning. They were somehow able to wake up in time for class, and at some point in the previous few days, they had the time to do their homework. At work I saw people functioning. Customers coming in at the exact same time every day, like clockwork. Straight from work, or the gym, or whatever other thing they allotted themselves time for. People can actually create schedules for themselves that they then follow This concept is something I have to adopt. Twice in my life, I've had day planners. Twice in my life, I've never used them. Twice in my life, I've thrown money in the garbage. Twice in my life, I've learned a lesson that will be resolved tomorrow morning.
When, or shall I say if, I fall asleep tonight, my dreams will be of functionality. They will be soft and normal and they will prepare me for this new venture. They will see the joy and the suffering of every moment of my future and they will teach me to accept it all equally.
And now that I'm just plain rambling, it must be time to meet this fate.
Ben
And who am I but the lonely road that I stand on, the fine line that I walk between death and insanity. The winding, weaving trail cluttered with the remains of everything that I've ever asked for, and the only thing I've ever wanted. Long before I ever asked myself why, I knew the answer. You spoke to me and told me your name and I only wondered why you stayed. And who am I but the sinking feeling in my gut, ever lower and entrenched in shame. Guilt has no enemies but I have many. So many lies and lives torn, scorned for believing for one second that I had anything to offer. And you were always there, strong and loving, wishing. But change is a chance I'm not willing to take. For all the worlds riches, I'd rather be poor. And who am I but the last shred of dignity in my heart, as I see you and him and your smiling eyes. How he takes your hand and heeds your command and you flow wistfully together, day and night. And he takes your lips, your hand, your heart. And no amount of tears could stop the blade as it tears my skin, crimson pools at my feet. And who am I but death incarnate, because no amount of anguish demands such action. And the world shakes and shudders at my feet, when the lights go out. And no last moment could be more perfect as your hands take mine. Your feet bare and drenched in the ocean I've created. And your tears meet mine, and fade to red like a fancy wine. And who am I but God himself?
So anyways, I watched a movie tonight called Thirteen. I can't say whether or not I liked it, just that I'd recommend it. After watching it, I really just wanted to smoke a cigarette. It stressed me out a little because it reminded me of me. I mean, I'm nothing like this little girl, but I've been down that road of destruction. I've been sucked into these pits of despair, and I noticed a pattern in my life. When I feel myself falling, I go for the cover up. I'm not the type to fess up, admit my mistakes, and do my best to move on. I cover it up and make it worse. And I keep covering it up as the problem grows and grows. And when it explodes, I run. I noticed that as a basic theme in my life. I decided to quit doing that, by the way. I'm waking up at 9 AM tomorrow and beginning a new life. This time, I'll admit my mistakes. I'll get through it and beyond it without covering it up. I can't just move every time life doesn't go my way. I won't have anywhere to live after a long enough time line. There are places in the world right now that I can never go back to if I don't want to face jailtime or death. I know what jail is like... I don't like it much.
I don't know what death is like, but now is most certainly not the time.
I don't want this to happen to another place.
I feel like writing some more, but I think I burned out my creativity on that first one. I haven't been writing much lately, other than today and yesterday of course. It's been months.
Does anyone in the world actually have structure in their life? I mean, I've been working at it for a long time now, and I've still got nothing. I can't manage a schedule for shit. I can't force myself to fall asleep, and most of the time I can't force myself to wake up. I feel hopeless about it, but 5 hours from now, I'm going to do my best to change it. 5 hours from now I'm going to wake up and physically exhaust myself. Then tomorrow evening, hopefully, I'm going to sleep like I haven't in years. Then I'm going to demand it of myself every day. I have to win this battle, or I am hopeless. Do you know how many classes I've missed this semester because I can't figure out how to wake myself up?
I'll be lucky if I pass all my classes.
I was thinking this evening about what it means to be functional in society. I can't say that I have been recently, but I don't really know anyone who is. But then I looked into my classes and I saw people functioning. They were somehow able to wake up in time for class, and at some point in the previous few days, they had the time to do their homework. At work I saw people functioning. Customers coming in at the exact same time every day, like clockwork. Straight from work, or the gym, or whatever other thing they allotted themselves time for. People can actually create schedules for themselves that they then follow This concept is something I have to adopt. Twice in my life, I've had day planners. Twice in my life, I've never used them. Twice in my life, I've thrown money in the garbage. Twice in my life, I've learned a lesson that will be resolved tomorrow morning.
When, or shall I say if, I fall asleep tonight, my dreams will be of functionality. They will be soft and normal and they will prepare me for this new venture. They will see the joy and the suffering of every moment of my future and they will teach me to accept it all equally.
And now that I'm just plain rambling, it must be time to meet this fate.
Ben