You dropped me into thin air
and everything moves faster there
I am crashing down
free falling is my tumble-ground
I am a wrecking ball
faster, faster, faster I fall
I am crashing fast
can’t save my future from my past
We are miles apart
Do you feel the ice, from my heart?
We are like night and day
Come here, come here, stay, no, go away
I see the blood pumping into your hand
You’re sitting right there, but you’re far away in a far away land
We are like down and up
You see my pain but the feeling don’t stop
This is part of a song I made some days ago. I kinda like the melody, and the words. They really convey something I feel. The isolation, and stuff. I mean … most of my songs and creative things are sad and stuff, and I’m sorry about that. I wish I had some positivity to push onto you all! but I don’t … It’s hard to act, because I’m trying to be true to myself.
I know that lately all my post have been down-down-down (or they have been from my side of the screen at least), and I guess you guys are pretty fed up with that now. I wish I could say that, tomorrow(!) I’m gonna write a positive, feel-good post. But I can’t, because that would be lying. Like, heck, I’m really trying to hold the bullshit away from here, but I think it’s seeping through. Well, I hope you’ll hang in there with me, and keep being great, because that kinda makes me happy, when I don’t even know what happy means.
HELLO! You are amazing! Rock on to the end of the world. Don’t ever give up. Keep trying. If you fall, get back up, and whenever you fall again, do the same thing over and over. You can do it. I believe in you, and you can believe in yourself. Applaud yourself for taking a shower, if that’s hard to do. Don’t judge yourself. Be nice, to others, but more importantly to yourself! And hey! If you want to listen to an upbeat song, check out Noah and the Whale with L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N 🙂
I’m gonna write a positive post. Not because I’m happy, or positive in any way. Not because I finally got some hope to hang on to, or because I’m feeling optimistic about the world, or the future. Not because I’m so grateful I just flow over with emotion, and feel like I should write a cheerful post. But because I’m so low, I don’t know what to do. And doing the opposite of what I want to do, might do me some good. Because the world (as I said) is shit, and a happy list (or whatever) might add to the shit … or might cheer me up, though I feel as if I’m so low no one could reach me here.
GOOD THINGS (I think I have to throw up!)
There are friends
Colors can look beautiful
Grandmothers (ambivalent, but yeah)
Candy (though it makes you fat, and being fat sucks, but it doesn’t suck over candy being good, if you getme?)
(and at this point I’m struggling to find any more things, but I know there has to be more, so I’m gonna push-push-push to find some more)
(OH HOW COULD I FORGET!?) Great bloggers, and blogs (!!)
(I’m so bad at this! Five more, five more!)
Lotion (I guess?)
To sleep! … in your own bed, with six pillows and the best mattresses ever
Amazing books (mark my words, not books in general, amazing books, though since this list was about good things, I’m gonna assume that good books, would do the trick too … but … no, whatever)
Why is the world spinning? Today it felt like I was semi-dissociating, that was messed up, like what the fuck? I was halfway in my head. People laughing outside my door makes me sad, upset, want to … Wow, sorry, did I say this was gonna be a positive post? I’m just gonna end it now, before I say another word about how I feel.
Fuck the world. Fuck everything. Damn, I wanna cry/die.
I love the look of painted nails on a keyboard. I love bread fresh from the oven. I love the sound of G sharp and E minor. I love finding words to reach out with. But the world is shit. Utterly, endlessly.
Everything goes too fast. And I want off. I don’t wanna go for another ride now. I don’t wanna take another spin with this planet. The only problem is there’s nothing else.
Game over is passage to nothing, to unknown. And that is scary too.
I wish someone could just reach out to me, and hold my heart until I felt better. Say abracadabra, and it all would feel good.
I had a dream that I could touch someone, with my words. I had a dream that I could capture people and take them with me into a world where there was love, and hope.
I used to have this dream, when I was younger. When I was still hoping for a better tomorrow. (Jeez, do you need to be so dramatic!?)
I early figured out I loved writing. I put a lot effort into the stories and essays we had to write for school. It was easy. The ideas just came flowing, without effort. The words just lined up. They came spilling out of my fingers, and there were rarely breaks in the flow. I don’t know where the creativity came from. But it felt like I was home. Like I was doing what I was supposed to do. Mind you, I was only 13, and what I wrote wasn’t really good. But it didn’t matter then. What mattered was that it felt right. The feeling of capturing someone with my words, it was amazing. So I dreamt.
Another thing that was important to me already then, as long as I can remember really, was helping others. To take advantage of my opportunities to mean something for someone else. To use every moment I had in others’ lives to make it better. To be someone who made others feel good. Maybe it had to do with me feeling worthless, and having to make others feel good to be worth my place in this world, or maybe it was because I knew how little it took to make someone’s day, or break someone’s day. So I dreamt.
I had a dream that I could touch someone, with my words. I had a dream that I could capture people and take them with me into a world where there was love, and hope. I dreamt of making a difference with my words. I used to think that if I wrote, and what I wrote changed one person’s life, it would all be worth it. There are politicians and people of organizations that spend their days working for a better tomorrow, changing the world little by little. And I wanted to do that. But not by laying down a law, or by traveling to famine struck countries in Africa or Asia, but by finding the words that could reach into someone’s soul, and make them realize that it’s worth it, and you can make a difference.
I’ve forgotten what it felt like dreaming like that. I have this strange, vague remembrance of it feeling good. I’ve forgotten what it was like to believe in the future.
So I wrote a post about what caused me to head back to hospital so soon. And then I didn’t post it because … I was/am scared of being that honest. And because it’s shitty. And because ‘what if someone I know accidentally finds this blog’ (should I change it’s name and delete the picture? like what do you think?). And because I’m not really sure if it has happened. And because I thought maybe it was too much. And because I didn’t want anyone to think I posted it because I wanted sympathy … though, really, maybe I do want sympathy? And because I didn’t want anyone to see me, but isn’t that what we all want, ever: to be seen? And because it’s idiotic. And because I’m weak. And because it’s taboo. And because it’s fresh.
And because it’s real, because it’s actually, truly, my life.
I don’t wanna be a cry-baby, but thinking about shit makes me cry. Admitting shit makes me cry. I don’t wanna tell you I’m lonely. It feels like a failure, like I’ve lost in something. Like I’m a loser for admitting it. But it’s true. It’s fucking true. I’m an idiot. I’m mean to myself. Wish I could just be a winner or something. Wish I could accomplish something. Wish I could live in a fairytale, in the happy ever after part.