the words i wrote at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, twenty
did i truly understand them?
do i truly understand them now?
i'm closer to thirty than i am to fifteen
and i'm just staring at this keyboard
of a laptop i didn't buy
listening to kesha on a speaker with the volume turned up 'way too high'.
i think about the days i laid on the floor, listening to kesha, with the volume...yeah, way too high.
i would lay on the floor of the room i grew up in
a room whose walls, if they could talk, would just weep
they would sob with all their might
the distress, suffering and bloodshed they've seen
and i'm still here, alive, more than just alive. living.
and i wonder, could there be a way to slip back in time and watch myself on those cold, lonely, empty nights?
"ain't it funny how time flies? fades into gold. now i wanna do a drive by, but i cant find the road... back to wonderland, where it all began."
"feels like it was a movie, that plays in my mind. shadows of a past life, wish i could rewind."
when did i learn to be so full of shame?
so inhibited and so suffocated?
it feels like i was more free in a sense
when i was writhing in pain and emptiness
but now that i have to have my head ******* straight on
to survive in this world on my own two feet
with everything i do, every step that i take...
shame engulfs me like a raging fire that came on with no warning.
even now, i feel ******* stupid writing these words
but in times like these,
i also feel completely and absolutely mentally ill, unwell, destroyed
and somehow, it's freeing.
i want to act like a lunatic
i want to make unidentifiable noises
i want to be called unstable
at least then i'll get a pass to be unhinged and absolutely myself
without the pretence of sanity and civil behaviour
without needing to be so painfully aware of the fact that 'we live in a society'
**** that
i am my entire society
i write the rules and i erase them
at my will
mentally ill, depressed out of my mind, numb as all hell, withering away
but completely and entirely free to be myself.
act out, lash out, scream, cry, crawl, hiss, flail, fail, growl
do it all
**** what anyone thinks
i'll do as i want.
i'll be me.
that's it.
Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 9:42 AM UTC
the words i wrote at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, twenty
did i truly understand them?
do i truly understand them now?
i'm closer to thirty than i am to fifteen
and i'm just staring at this keyboard
of a laptop i didn't buy
listening to kesha on a speaker with the volume turned up 'way too high'.
i think about the days i laid on the floor, listening to kesha, with the volume...yeah, way too high.
i would lay on the floor of the room i grew up in
a room whose walls, if they could talk, would just weep
they would sob with all their might
the distress, suffering and bloodshed they've seen
and i'm still here, alive, more than just alive. living.
and i wonder, could there be a way to slip back in time and watch myself on those cold, lonely, empty nights?
"ain't it funny how time flies? fades into gold. now i wanna do a drive by, but i cant find the road... back to wonderland, where it all began."
"feels like it was a movie, that plays in my mind. shadows of a past life, wish i could rewind."
when did i learn to be so full of shame?
so inhibited and so suffocated?
it feels like i was more free in a sense
when i was writhing in pain and emptiness
but now that i have to have my head ******* straight on
to survive in this world on my own two feet
with everything i do, every step that i take...
shame engulfs me like a raging fire that came on with no warning.
even now, i feel ******* stupid writing these words
but in times like these,
i also feel completely and absolutely mentally ill, unwell, destroyed
and somehow, it's freeing.
i want to act like a lunatic
i want to make unidentifiable noises
i want to be called unstable
at least then i'll get a pass to be unhinged and absolutely myself
without the pretence of sanity and civil behaviour
without needing to be so painfully aware of the fact that 'we live in a society'
**** that
i am my entire society
i write the rules and i erase them
at my will
mentally ill, depressed out of my mind, numb as all hell, withering away
but completely and entirely free to be myself.
act out, lash out, scream, cry, crawl, hiss, flail, fail, growl
do it all
**** what anyone thinks
i'll do as i want.
i'll be me.
that's it.
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