Emotional


Irrational emotions, be gone! I wish to be rid of thee. 

How I wish I could cut off emotions sometimes. Except of course I know I don’t. As much as I despair at how I can get emotionally down for seemingly no reason at all, and how I hate feeling so mopey and depressed when I know I have no reason to feel this way…

I know I fear the void and emptiness even more than irrational, inescapable sadness. A life without emotion wouldn’t be worth living– or wouldn’t be human, anyway. Sometimes I deliberately think thoughts that I know will make me cry, as though if I made the pain more acute, that would make it more bearable. And maybe then it would go away…

I started an entry only to select all and back space yesterday. I did it several times. That feeling of wanting desperately to say something, yet having nothing to say.

While I was lying in bed and trying to sleep, finally a line came to me that would not go away, that seemed to express exactly what I felt:

I think of you because I don’t know what else to do. 

I don’t know what else to think about when I’m feeling this way. I don’t know what else I can do in relation to you besides merely thinking about you. I don’t think this makes anything better, but I don’t know what else to do…

How much a part of ourselves do our emotions constitute, is what I always wonder. If I’m feeling upset only because of a ‘mood swing’, some internal temporary hormonal imbalance, am I to discount these emotions? But these thoughts I think when I feel these things, surely they are as a part of me as any other thought I might have…?

How would you know what’s normal or abnormal when there are no standards for comparison…

 

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When was the last time you took the time to watch the changing clouds?


Sometimes
The things left un-said
Clang louder than the things that are.

But it’s okay.

I promise to take some time to watch the changing clouds.
I promise to come back and comb the library.
I promise to take a stroll down the beach.

I promise to touch as many of those millions of point of light as I can.
Touch, touch, touch. And paint my picture, an explosion of fireworks.

Can you see what I see?

Not.


Reality seeps
through my fingers.
I am
not.

One foot, then another
moving but going nowhere.
Unseeing eyes
unsmiling smiles.
Pumping blood
without a heartbeat.

They’ve turned from
a misplaced reality
into fading memories
ashen grey and almost-but-can’t
forgotten

Reality was taken
but was not replaced.
I am
not.

Demon I


Everyday
A demon whispers in my ear.

you don’t want to live
he breathes
you don’t want to be here
you don’t want this, any of this

imagine the blade
across your skin
silently slice, slice, slice
again, again.
hypnotizing comfort.

imagine the height
imagine the flight
what a rush!
of adrenaline and wind

Along the streets and roads
come and crash us down, come on.
Around the corners
sudden headlights and screech of brakes, come on.

what else does he say to me?
no one cares.
what else does he say?
you’re as alone as can be.
its echo-y in my head

((no one cares))(caress)(caresss))
((you’re alone))(alone)(lone..))

you don’t want to live
he coos
your life, so dead. empty. meaningless.
there’s nothing here. 

Everyday
A demon whispers in my ear.

Battling Demons (That feeling)


that feeling
on the edge
almost coming

fighting, fighting
fighting the demons (of self)
fighting the darkness
fighting back tears.

sharp smells
bright lights
memory is like smell and taste
can’t quite pin it down
describing never does it justice
but it’s so strong, so poignant.

fighting back thoughts.

that feeling:
all consuming
an emotion morphed
and spilling over
into sensation

that feeling
suffocating, all around
pressing in, closing in
can’t
breath

that feeling
like it’s
not worth moving
not worth opening
your eyes
not worth breathing
not worth living

that feeling
so unbearable
that a mental scramble
for remedies
leaves you thinking
only this:

chop off my head
just wanna chop off my head
surely that would make me feel better
make the thinking
and the memories
and the almost-crying
and the want-to-dying
stop

or just dig a hole in my chest
both sound good
sounds like comfort.
whichever’s faster, easier
quick, do it, quick!

fortunately
perhaps surviving confers immunity
perhaps having gone through it once
it’s lost some power
lost some effect
you get numb, maybe.
you get bored, maybe.
you think, i’ve seen this before.
I can get out.

fortunately
it’s much less
all consuming now
it’s much less.

fortunately
i feel it coming
but just hovering at the edge
and i battle not to let it in.

i’m never.
going back there.

demons, away!
be gone.

leave me in peace.

Keeping yourself company


The sound of silence;
all there is.
I’m sick of my own company.

The sound of silence
is deafening.
Thoughts and words banging,
bouncing soundlessly
around my skull.
No outlet, no listening ear
to borrow for a while.

Blast the wall of sound.
Pretend it makes you feel better
and maybe it will.

Everything sounds better in a foreign language/
Everything sounds better sung– or screamed.
Everything sounds better with some rhythm.

Distractions, keep yourself distracted.
Keep yourself occupied. With distractions
Just keep moving.
Don’t stop, or you might sink.

That can’t be all there is.
That can’t be it.
Slay me.

Enough.
The silence is deafening.
It starts ringing, after a while.

My words bounce around in my skull.
I’m sick of my own company.

Maybe the secret to happiness
is being able to enjoy one’s own company.

It’s not fair


it’s not fair;
how is it you can look so happy, so carefree? smiling and having fun. life goes on for you.

it’s not fair;
how is it that they get to see you happy? especially when I’ve known you longer, know you better, and love you more? they get to hear your laughter and return your smiles, spend time with you, trade jokes and banter, sharing your happiness, even if only on the surface.

whereas you’re nothing more than a ghost to me, and I to you.

…oh, to make you smile; to hear your voice calling me; to share your joys and worries; to feel your touch; to know you
once again.

I still think of you.


I still think of you all the time.

I think of you when I wake,
and before I fall asleep.
I think of you before class starts,
and immediately after class ends.
I think of you when I’m happy,
I think of you when I’m sad.
I think of you when something exciting’s happened,
I think of you when I’m bored to death.
I think of you when I’m alone,
I think of you when I’m with others.
I think of you when I’m feeling insane,
I think of you when I’m calm.
I think of you when I’m slacking,
I think of you when I’m working.
I think of you when I’m at home,
I think of you when I’m out.
I think of you when there’s a physical reminder,
I think of you even when there’s none.
I think of you…

It’s a thought habit
that I have no clue how to break.
How do you break a thought habit?
How do you break a heart habit?
Everything reminds me of you– remind me of you,
because I saw you as an extension of me.

My voice is too loud in my skull
I’m sick of my own company.

Banish thought.

Just keep moving…on the spot.


The memories. They won’t stop– they keep flashing past my eyes of their own accord. 

I’m getting so sick of treading on this worn out path, this rut. It feels like I’ve been stuck here forever. The same bleak scenery stretching on in all directions, the sticky muck and sharp, rocky debris underfoot. I know it hasn’t been forever, i know it hasn’t be that long, objectively. But sometimes it sure feels like it has been too long, too long.

“Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.” One foot in front of the other, that’s it, I keep reminding myself. Often it’s necessary to tread through rough patches to get to your paradise, get through that darkest hour before you’re rewarded with the light of day. This is all a part of life. It may not be pleasant, but you can’t escape it and in retrospect it won’t be take bad. In retrospect you will probably even be able to appreciate it and be grateful for it. Probably.

Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of a new horizon, a new path, a new landscape just around the bend, and I’d smile and feel assured that I must be on the right path, and all I have to do is keep pushing, I’m nearly there.

Then the next thing I know, it seems I must have taken a wrong turn, or accidentally trekked backwards, or maybe I went in a circle… I’m not even sure if I’m on the right path, maybe I should go where it branches off suddenly over there…

As someone wise and purple once said, If you don’t know where you want to go, then it doesn’t really matter which way you head in…

If i knew what the outcome is ‘supposed’ to be, if I knew which outcome was best, then I could pick myself up from here and now, and plop myself right there. And head straight there in a straight line, and start preparing myself NOW for that. Cut out all this messy bits, I don’t care so much for the figuring out any more, it stopped being fun. I don’t want to be stuck here forever, just give me the answer, whisk me to the next pitstop, so I can move on from there and get on with it.

But there’s no ‘Supposed to be’, there’s no ‘Right Answer’, there’s no ‘Designated Pitstop’.
It’s the journey that matters, not the destination. Rather, there IS no Destination.

Life is a journey. Like reading a book or playing a computer game. If you cut to the end just to find out what happens, it really can’t be said that’ve you’ve read the book or played the game, much less that you’ve enjoyed them. Cutting the chase would be missing the point entirely.

… Doesn’t make the frustration and impatience of feeling like you’re stuck go away though.