I haven't wrote anything for so long.
My brain does not allow myself to do so. There are so many things that are bothering me, mostly about myself, who am i in this world, how people see me, what is going to happen to me. Every second i try to make some sense out of everything but i'm left even more confused than i already was.
Reality is scary; simply because you are never sure if you are genuinely aware of reality. That's because what i see myself as, might just be an illusion i created to ease my fear of being myself. I always thought i was a strong person, that i had values and strong opinions, that i am someone who will do big things. I always thought that i am a nice person, that i genuinely care for others, that i'm okay, just a little confused, but am i? Am i any of these things?
I feel like a ghost wandering from place to place. People are unaware of my existence unless i make sure they notice i'm there too. But i stopped blaming society long ago, it's not anyone's fault, i'm not sure if it's mine either,maybe it's my brain's, it plays tricks sometimes. But i am my brain.
Everything feels like it quietly falls apart, slowly but deadly and you can not notice the damage unless you straight up look at it. I don't think i am as okay as i say that i am, but i am okay enough, and i guess that's what's wrong. I can't wish for help because i am okay enough. It's a fine line that keeps me hanging there. We fail to care about ourselves unless it's obvious that we should. I guess i am like that too.
I don't know when i'm right or wrong, when i'm happy or just getting by. I find myself unbearable, weak and tiny, like a trembling deer chased by lions, only i am both the deer and the lion. I don't seem to be able to hide my genuine feelings anymore. I started to catch myself hesitating before answering to "how are you" or i keep repeating the phrase "i'm anxious about this or that". I seem to not be able to fake a smile anymore or other times i'm smiling too much. I trust people who seem to sympathise with me, strangers or not, i ran to open arms like a homeless puppy or i poured my soul on small glasses and forced myself to stop before i break them. It's weird because i sometimes feel in control and other times i'm all over the place or when i talk about myself to curious eyes i say too much as if i truly know what i'm talking about.
I fear so many things, so so many things that keep me from living. I want to do things, be with people, date, say my opinions out loud, i want to live and not force myself to carry the weight of my head everywhere i go. There are times when i put my guard down and i close my eyes and i feel my head falling to the side, too heavy to keep it still. I fear everything but love so much.
The reality of who i really am is suffocating and i don't know, i don't know, i don't know. My god how i wish i could cry in public and whine and scream on top of my lungs **** you all!" just because i can't be any of them. Or to make my mum understand that when i tell her that i am not that good i mean "mum!i!am!not!okay!" but i'm scared to hurt her. How could i choose to make my mother cry when i tell her that i think about death a lot. But i'm not doing it, because i am okay enough.
How i wish i could date the guys that call me "interesting" and want to get to know me, but i'm too scared of speaking to strangers so i act cold to turn them down when in reality i'd love to feel their warmth on my skin. If i wasn't afraid of going to new places, or talking to people, or experiencing life, or not ******* up every line i say because i'm too stressed to actually put my words in a correct order. There is such a huge gap between who i want to be or how i feel like i am and who i actually am or even who i end up looking like.
If there was no fear, how could my life be? Who could i be if i wasn't afraid of being? Really, is there anything in my life other than my loneliness and a universe of polluted thoughts? Am i anything more than flesh and bones? And how? How can i change and find myself? How do people know who they are if i, who knows too much about myself cannot understand a single part of my existence? If i can't understand myself then how can i ever be able to truly understand others, to be happy, or to be alive? How could i truly ever live my life without feeling the weight of myself dragging me down?
I sense the catastrophe running through my veins. Really, how small can a person become? I feel so small in my own room, even smaller in my own life. Am i even as big as a dust in space, as alive as a falling star or is there nothing for me? I wish i could be someone you turn to face, but maybe my sunrays faded away and maybe i'm way too small to take up all that space; but for you to look at me, that would have been the biggest accomplishment i have ever made.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 7:50 PM UTC
I want to fall in love in an art museum,
and gaze at paintings,
and see myself through them;
dancing between the lines
singing among the colours
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 3:45 PM UTC
He who is feared by many, stood before me
as the faint moon light glimpsed on his scarred face.
His shadow swallowed me whole,
a monstrous creature with an aura of excellence.
He stood there for a minute that felt like decades
and stared down at my useless body.
I felt my bones cracking and my limbs shaking,
his eyes - a void filled with complete chaos,
pierced right through me.
I saw red flowers and dead trees grow out of my head,
dead horses and ****** deer running around in my room,
shadows and screams, tsunamis and hurricanes,
drowned voices and muffled prays.
I saw red skies and blue forests, black seas and green deserts.
I saw myself falling off planets, being thrown off constellations, unwanted in the vast universe, uninvited at the celebrations of the stars.
i saw it all happen in a mere second, a far too long second,
as it all crashed and disappeared on the cold floor.
His shadow, taller than ever, filled every corner of my room.
He raised his head and inhaled all the air that was left in one breath
"YOU CALLED?"
His deep voice made the walls shake and the earth tremble,
and i was left there like an empty shell,
naked and exposed,
as his words filled the room
and filled my head.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 6:14 AM UTC
my head is heavy
and falls back
sometimes on my left
sometimes in my front
i bang it on walls
and i drag it in the dirt
i pull out its hair
or try to rip it of its neck
my head is heavy
i don't want it
it pulls me down
and doesn't love me
i want to smash it open
and allow my ghost to flee
i want to get rid of it
so it can finally let me sleep
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
i am the dark nights and the pouring rain,
the leftovers and the wine stains
i am the cold weather and a forgotten dream,
the 3 am coffee or your 3 am screams
i am a ghost or an empty feeling, or
i might be hanging from the ceiling
i am in the corner or right next to you, or
i could be lying six feet under you
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
i laugh, i joke, i play around
the busy days are the reason why i'm around
the days of working, fighting, staying up late
those busy days that keep me awake
i smile, i talk, i hold back my frown
the busy hour is what keeps me down
the hour that i don't have to face myself
that busy hour that i can fill my hollow shell
but the time comes when i'm no longer busy
my loneliness is the only thing that stays with me
that time that i turn into a void of nothingness
when it's only me, my sorrow and my emptiness
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
i was told once
as a joke
that i bring the rain
everywhere i go
i clenched my teeth
and softly laughed
while looking at them
shining like little suns
their sun-rays danced around the room
pure and free
and untainted by the rain
that was pouring all over me
i felt my eyes turn into oceans
as i gazed at the cloudy sky
while the rain was pouring down
every single drop felt like mine
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
Is it love or is it just him?
Is it his galaxy-blue eyes,
or his sweet rose-colored lips?
Is it his soft pale skin,
or is it maybe his warm fingertips?
Could it be his vibrant laugh,
or was it when he held my hand?
Is it maybe the way he loves to stare,
or could it just be the small talk we shared?
Maybe it's love. Maybe it's really just him.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
i broke down too many times this month
for assuming my place in people's lives.
obscure thoughts of my existence being more than
flesh and bones and two pair of eyes,
or believing i was important for just a few hearts
only to be left with an empty soul and empty hands
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
When i was fourteen
I learnt how to tie a rope
And practiced on a small string
until i could tie it with my eyes closed
i kept it in my pocket
i placed it in my bag
I played with it when i was lonely
and held it in my hands
Now i'm nineteen
I no longer remember how to tie a rope
But i still keep my small string
In the deep corner of my drawer
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC