after death
we exaggerate a person’s good qualities,
inflate them.
during life
we are often repulsed by that same person
while talking to them on the telephone
or just being with them in the same room.
and we are often critical of the way they
walk, talk, dress
live
believe
but let them die
then what creatures they become.
if only at a funeral service
somebody would say,
“what an odious individual
that one was!”
even at my funeral
let there be a bit of truth
then
the
good
clean
dirt.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!
(Source: nocoffeeplease)
SERENITY.
What is crazy to me is that it has been almost a year since Justin went to jail. That was a rough time. I cried a lot. That fucker sucked 3 plus years out of my life. Relationships are fucking bullshit unless an addiction is shared. I am not speaking of just drugs, but other things as well. Just addictions. Something that two people can share and love with each other. Justin and I had great sex. Justin and I had a ridiculous passion to be together, to be close. And I loved him, I still do but I can’t let it go beyond the inside of my heart. That love is mine and I am still, a year later, trying to figure out how to dispose of this correctly. What makes me sick and crazy is that if my family didn’t exist, if my friends didn’t exist, and his as well, we would be together. He had these lines on his face that I imagine sometimes when it’s late and I am alone with my thoughts. He had this really fucking beautiful face. He had the most beautiful body, it was perfect. He was sick in his mind, in a good way. It made me want to hold him and make him feel better about everything that hurts. I have never in my life struggled this much with letting go of someone. I throw people away, it is known. I didn’t want to throw him away. It makes me so sad knowing that he had me. He could have had me until the day he died, and he/we fucked it all up. I miss him so much. And I cannot talk to anyone about this because they are disgusted, as they should be, with him. And they are disgusted with the fact that I could still care for someone who obviously had zero respect for me. My heart is forever a pile of ash. I don’t want to use it, ever. I don’t ever want to lose someone like I lost him. I want to fucking blow my head off. I am so sick of crying alone, and avoiding this. I do not know how to deal with loss like this because it was an unwanted loss. I would have never let that die. I was done with getting my face smashed in. I was done with bleeding and crying. I know I need to remind myself that he didn’t respect me. But I know he loved me. And I loved him. The only way for the last year that I knew to deal with this was to just not think of it. If it came into my mind I would quickly flush it out. I know this is unhealthy and I know that it is time for me to conquer this. Will he always be haunting me? Will he always exist in my heart? Or does this go away? I don’t know these things, as I believe he was the first person I have ever loved. I just have to remind myself that he will not be the last and that I deserve great things. He did not provide me with anything but an opportunity to genuinely love someone on the deepest level possible. I want to hurt things. I want to break shit. I want to cry. And sometimes I wish I could go back and live that all over again. There were only a handful of times that I left the room bloody. Is it fucked up that I wish I could live that all again. And that I believe I could make it so he didn’t hit me, and hurt me. I wish I could hold him. Right now. But I can’t.
On these days when I feel good inside I try to find the part of me that is distributing endorphins. I want to speak to my internal gatekeeper and tell it that I am the key master.
It’s ironic that the people who have the best advice to distribute have no idea where to start with their own problems. It is always this way. Maybe this is a product of a coping mechanism gone wrong, a deflection of their own pain, a hobby to take their mind off of the stresses of life, or maybe, and most possibly, it is just bullshit. I guess it is like this: if you have just been in a car accident, do not panic, do not admit fault, cooperate with the police and remain calm… Okay, easy to say as I sit in the confines of my home. What happens when you are in a car accident? Mass hysteria, chaos in the streets, dogs and cats living together.. When actually put in these situations that we KNOW the underlying rules as to how to act, these lists get vacuumed out of our minds and we rely on emotion for fuel. This is exactly why one always has the answers when it is someone else in a situation of stress, sadness, heart break, etc. There is clarity when not involved. There is hope, and positives. There is the possibility of being able to see the beginning, middle and end without the cloudiness. There are answers. But we as humans, the intelligent beasts that we are, say fuck our intelligence, fuck everything we have been trained for, fuck rules, repetition, and experience… just let the demon on the shoulder make the calls because right now the angel is standing speechlessly. Repetition is the one thing that can get us used to whatever potential chaos may exist, a mental boot camp if you will, desensitizing everything that makes us human and natural. But, see, we can’t go out into the world and say, alright world, I am going to get into car accident after car accident until I know how to do this right. There would be many broken bones and medical bills, but our few brain cells floating around thanks to life support will know the correct procedure then - but be lacking the will, and/or physical strength to ever drive again. And now, class, we look at love.
And then, we look away.
I am awake. I don’t know if this is a good thing.
I have realized in the past few weeks that I have lost my strength. I cannot take chances, I won’t allow myself to. I can’t even cry because I am not sure where I will be safe doing it. Paranoia has always had a supporting role in my life. Sometimes it fights to be the leading role and sometimes it wins the fight. Every experience is not just what it is. It is a mental battle of sorting through which thoughts are worth listening to, which thoughts need to be thrown in the dumpster of my brain and then there are the thoughts sitting next to a megaphone. I used to have the power to say anything to anyone at anytime, and now I am incapable of telling the people I trust the most the truth. Not because I want to hide it necessarily, but because I refuse to face it myself. Once I verbally declare the demons of my life to another, it becomes a reality that I don’t want to face. I judge people by their hearts, not by their actions, not by their possibly horrible past, and not by what sins they are drowning in. And it has always been possible for me to find that glimmer in everyone’s heart, no matter how long it took to find, I would find it. I have officially found someone that has no glimmer. Their heart is nothing but a pile of ash. After 26 years of making it my personal mission to find that goodness, and succeeding. I feel let down, lost and most of all scared. I feel I have become a reflection of his emptiness. I can’t face truth anymore because I am almost sure I will not be able to handle it… WHY? because I am not currently handling it. I do whatever I can do to get through the day without being told how horrible of a person I am. If that means doing everything the exact opposite way of how I want to be doing it, then that is what it means. I have two options in life, which my brain knows I have more, but my strength has given me two options: shitty, or shittier. I want to give up, I say to myself, but then I realize I already have. My white flag is flying through the air.
There are times in life when I question every decision I’ve made. I go through it all. From the slide out of the womb to this moment I face now.
My mother told me when I was born I had the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck and my legs. I had goals of taking myself out before my first cry. And thousands of tears later I realize that I was born with these demons and I will die with these demons.
When people clip their toenails and fingernails in the same room as me I get creepy inside. I am really happy that people only have ten of each. Any more than that and I could lose myself and end up in prison. Just imagine the worst possible thing a person could do, and I would be doing that - with a smile.
Do everything with a smile I was told once. Rape, pillaging, murder, things of that nature, they all deserve a smile. And ice cream, mmmm. If they had ice cream in prison, you’d all be dead already.
Things are getting closer to the sun.
My heart hurts a little bit.
Not necessarily because I want to be with him.
I can just see myself old and alone.
There is good news though..
there will be cats.
LOTs.
mew.
