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Gira Mar 20
What’s the difference between escapism and avoidance?
“There isn’t one, they’re synonyms”
I used to think that too
Because I have been lying to myself for the past three years
“It’s just a quick break”
“I’m just winding down and then I’ll get things done”
And yet
Night after night
I find myself lying in bed at 1:30 am
Staring blankly at my phone
Watching anything I can get my hands on to escape
And scrambling the next day to get anything I avoided done
I think that I’m simply just escaping into another world
To take a break from reality
When really I’m avoiding everything that I need to get done
I’ve been lying to myself for 1128 days today
Because I cannot get myself motivated to do anything
I tell myself that I'll get it done in a minute
But I know it won't be done until weeks after it was due
I thought it was simply just escapism
But I am a devout avoidance practicer
There is a difference between escapism and avoidance
Because escapism is a temporary break to set your mind straight
And avoidance is escaping everything at any cost.
another S.A.D piece
Gira Mar 20
There’s a pile of papers
Sitting on my desk
Staring at me
Taunting me
Its eyes blink slowly
And I stare back
Wondering should I get started?
No, I’ll do it later
That was a month ago
It’s a daily struggle now
I’m not avoiding it, I swear
I moved the pile to the corner of the room
So it couldn’t stare at me anymore
The pile has gotten higher
Looming over me
Disappointed that I’d rather read than finish them
Its eyes narrow and it frowns at me
Its stare boring into my back
Revealing the hole where all of my motivation
Dripping out
I’m not avoiding it!
I’m not..
But I don’t have any excuses to not do it
another piece I use for S.A.D
Gira Mar 20
Chk-! Chk-! Chk-!
The tree falls down and I gather the wood that falls
It fills up my inventory.
An imaginary world controlled by a few keyboard clicks and mouse movements
It’s not real but
It better than my real life
I’m an escapist of reality
Because anywhere else would be better than this
The pile of homework on my desk begs to differ
But I ignore it
I’ve been injured in a great dual.
One of mighty wizards and witches, all battling for freedom.
One of the medics heals my wounds, I watch as the skins magically starts coming back together
Good as new
As if it had never happened
I wish paper cuts healed that fast
There’s a dozen on my fingers from school work
But let’s not think about that! Back to the great fantasy
Away from my real life
Away from everything
My escape
After all…
my break hour isn’t over yet
definitely a minecraft reference
a piece I use for S.A.D
Gira Mar 20
The dark oil seeps into my lungs
and then as fast as it came it goes
pouring out turned into the hateful words I describe myself with
drip drip drip
but it isn't oil pouring out of my mouth
it's blood pouring out of my wrists
from the cuts inflicted from self hate
from an inability to make myself feel okay
drip drip drip
unfortunately I have to patch up the cuts before all of the self hate can get out
drip drip drip
I'll wait a few days before I let it out again
I can't bleed every night
forgot when i wrote this, probably late 2018
Gira Dec 2018
There is a fine line between comfortable and safe
Because being comfortable is the reverse of being safe
When you’re uncomfortable you have all of your walls up
Nobody gets in
If you hadn’t been comfortable maybe he wouldn’t have left you in the dust
Picking up the broken pieces of your heart
But like a jigsaw puzzle lost to time
You couldn’t find all the pieces
You’re broken and it’s because you were comfortable with him
There’s a stutter in your throat when you say
“I- I l-lo-love y-ou”
Because “I love you” means comfortable and comfortable means being hurt again
And he can’t understand why it comes out so broken
He can’t understand why you try to keep yourself uncomfortable around him
Because the last time you were comfortable
You were harassed until the only option you could see to get out was a thread and a tree
And a goodbye
Because comfortable sounds like hugs and kisses and warm nights cuddled in bed
But the reality of comfortable is
Pain and vulnerability and never being able to trust again
Maybe you’d have been safer being uncomfortable
Is this a rant? Am I good at poetry?
Probably not

— The End —