“All that I am, or hope to be”

June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 October 2011 November 2011 December 2011 January 2012 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012 July 2012 August 2012 September 2012 October 2012 November 2012 December 2012 January 2013 February 2013 April 2013 May 2013 November 2013 December 2013 February 2014 May 2014 June 2014

Mental stillness.

You open your eyes, sunlight flooding your retinas. You feel blinded and disappointed you're still alive. What time is it? Noon. Barely two hours of sleep. You flip to your right, witness your mother sleeping soundly, and decide to get up and sleep in your room instead.

You reach your room. An image crosses a side of the wall as you walk towards your bed. You pause and approached that image. You observe it for a brief moment. Red, swollen, crusty eyes. Pale skin, blue lips. A disgusting albeit terrifying sight. Anyone who sees this image would have screamed, or run away. You immediately feel a rush of energy flow through you. Your fists ball up, and you're ready for a punch. You grit your teeth and prepare for impact. You hold your fist mid-air and pause.

Hot tears start rolling down your cheeks. You weaken. You feel like your heart dropped into your stomach, and your throat grew thicker, it's hard to swallow, almost hard to breathe. You hated what you saw, hated it so much, but it's all you have. Mirrors, mirrors always seem to mock you.Always seem to enhance your insecurities, always there to remind you how fat, how ugly, and how unwanted you are.

You stand there, staring at yourself. Memories of last night playing over in your head. You feel raw, you feel alone,you feel used. You take a breath and try to hold it in, digesting the thoughts along the way. Everything you love hates you. Everyone you love hates you. Even you hates you. You hate your vessel, you hate your soul. Interior and exterior, both are just unacceptable in your eyes.

Why are you given all this? This ugliness, this sticky black feeling inside? You feel like you tried so hard to please everyone, and you receive nothing in return. You don't want much, you just want to be loved and accepted. You want your self-loathing to stop, you want to be normal and laugh freely. You hope so much for things to stop, for the thoughts to stop, for the tears to stop, for the choke in your throat to stop, but the mirror... It keeps on reminding you how awful you are, and you can't seem to look away.

Nobody loves you, nobody loves you, nobody loves you.
You're just a piece of waste in this world. An object of no importance, made ugly and unappealing, with a completely unattractive character to go along with.

Stop it, stop thinking that way, it's not good for you. Your conscience tries to convince you it's going to be okay. You know, though, that it never will. You look once last time into the mirror, and the vision confirms your thoughts. You can never, ever love yourself.

You turn and took a seat at the corner of your bed. You look down at your hands. Long, bony fingers, crooked at the joints. Yellow nails, scaly skin, prominent veins and lines and dryness are all you could see. No wonder nobody loves you. You are disgusting. You look up, and took a deep breath.

Change change change change
He wants you to change
You want him to love you
You want him to think you're perfect, you're good enough for him.
How do you change. How do you change.

The tears keep on coming. Your mind feels like someone poured hot black sticky tar and every good memory possible is blanketed and replaced with these thoughts. You cannot think clearly. You wish for comfort, but you don't know where to look for it. You wipe your tears, stood up and search for your the bag you dumped to the side last night. You pour out all it's contents, and found what you were looking for.

You lit a cigarette, and watched the smoke dance, momentarily forgetting everything.

And so here I am once again, months after my last drop of words. Heh, words are strange, 26 letters in different arrangements, making a story, breathing life into characters.

So what do I put here. Life has frozen. Everyday is a repetition, I look forward to very little. Time flies, at the same time it creeps by. I try to keep up with vibrancy and smiles and engage myself into social situations, but honestly I'm pretty dead inside. Something wake me up, please. One nothing after another... I'm sure life has more meaning than this.

Please give me one soon, somebody, anybody.

On the more physical side, I've been going through bouts of nausea. No, I am not pregnant, my very massive (is this too much?) period proved that I indeed am not. I get nauseous without food, i get nauseous with food. My body cannot decide. I am not sure if it's a virus, or some kind of allergy, or just a psychological thing going on, but it annoys me. I have to take small sips of water in between small amounts of food. After a meal, i'd feel nauseous, and then go on a strange, disturbing, albeit disgusting, surge of continuous croaks - hiccups. Of which I'm suffering with riiiiiiight now.

Sigh, lady luck, rain on me.

Didn't know this song,
then he sent it to me and i practically burst into a million tears.
probably the sweetest song in the whole universe.





How strange is it that when you love somebody you have this protective instinct naturally implanted on you? That you know them so well when they do something different you can't help but wonder if it is your fault. Like youre not good enough or you cant seem to reach the point of interest that would usually distract said person from suddenly changing. Its odd witnessing an electric conversation between the person you love and a complete stranger. It makes you feel like a third wheel. Especially if said person does not behave in that manner of which you observe on normal circumstances.  Doubts start flowing in like a flood.

And then you wonder if everything you're doing is even half worth it. You plan so much for this person, and then this sudden change. You want to turn back and halt all good intentions, stop and remain still at a point, and maybe let yourself heal. You realize you starved and neglected some of the things that make you yourself happy, to save up for something special for the person, and you wonder if it was a mistake to risk your own happiness for someone else's, especially after what happened.

And then things take a turn for the worse. Past issues were brought up, and youre reminded once more of every negative event that occurred since you first surrendered your heart to the person. You feel like that precious heart of yours wasnt being taken care of, and that fragile thing has experience so much little wounds that it has lost its meaning. You just wish you could stop caring.

In fact...
You'd wish you never start caring at all.