How far can I go?

    Whenever I wake up it's usually to blackness. My eyes need to adjust in order to get my barrings, so I can see the silouhettes of the surrounding sewers. Today though I open my eyes and am bombarded with brightness. It's nauseous and I almost end up throwing up. I shut my eyes while simultaniously dropping to the floor and I just want it to stop. Stop with the brightness, the colors give me back my soothing grey, because I no longer deserve to be in the light, neither do I want to be in it.
    Amazingly, something seems to hear my inner thoughts, because the brightness get turned down a bit, but it's still light. I hate it. Whenever I get brought here it's dark and cool, sure it's also scary and life threatening, but in some fucked up way it's also calming. This though, isn't. I'm not in the sewers instead I seem to be inside of a bright, white space- a void.
    The white is making me physically ill. It's worse than being inside a hospital, there I could at least focus on the sharp tang of disinfectant. The only thing here though is space and light. I contrast with the room seeing as I'm completely grey, even my skin is a grey-ish hue. It's almost like I'm dead and this is my own personal hell. Am I dead? Really I expected to be dropped into some sort of hell or whatever, but I guess everyone gets their own torture room?

    I'm not sure how I should feel about being dead. It should sadden me, but really the only thing going through my mind is relief and longing. Relief, because I'm done with that fucking chore called living. 

Done with school, done with putting up with my fathers bullshite, my mothers clinginess, all the masks, the people, trying to fit in and getting pushed away. Done with getting crushed, because I tried so hard and even though I gave it my all I still wasn't good enough. Done with all of the bullshite that life decides to throw at me. 

    It's definetly not a normal reaction. Normal, non-suicidal humans would probably cry or get angry at the world, but I can't help but feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

 I'm a selfish person.

 How many nights have I struggled with sleep, because my brain just wouldn't shut up? 

How many times have I swallowed down my aggression towards my father, held back the words that I wanted to sear into his flesh? 

How many times have I lied to my family, promising them things I would never do? 

The constant self-loathing towards myself, for being weak, for always having an excuse to do something or not do something. 

Questiong myself and wondering if I really should still be in school if I shouldn't just run away and be done with all of the things that made me hate myself.

 I'm a terrible human being. 

Because all I can feel is relief. 

    I don't have to worry about that anymore because I'm dead. I finally got what I wanted. I fell asleep and never woke up again. Funny thing, I always joke about death, suicide and dark thoughts. It's a fucked up type of dark humor that I enjoy. I wonder if anyone ever noticed that I was asking for such things? Or maybe I thought if I joked about it more people would suspect me of being incapable of doing such a thing. I wonder if Aster ever figured out why I wear a black glove?
    Only two people know why. One understood after I told her I was cutting. Another I told years after the scars healed and wanted to keep him from doing the same.
    My life wasn't difficult or hard, it was just emotional. So very emotional. That thing that I barely understand and struggle to use aside from the basic's. I wonder if I'd ever get to a point where I understood them, at least a little. I'll never know. Just like I'll never know what Larkspurs life is going to look like.
How Azael is going to move forward. How Aster is going to find himself. I won't get to see so many things.

    That explains the longing.

    Somehow in the white expanse I see a fox, but to be more exact, an arctic fox. Which is amazing, because those fuzzballs are white and that's all there is in this room. It stares at me though, with it's piercing black eyes, beckoning. 'Follow me' they seem to say 'come lets find the weasle.' Then it's off and for some reason I start running after it, because I'm curious and there is little else to do here, but contemplate about my life's choices.
    Sometimes I feel like I lose sight of the fox, but then I spot it again running, until finally it stops and stares straight into my soul. 'Come, let's find the weasle.' It seems to say again, before jumping into the ground. This baffles me and I run up to the spot where it disappeared only to find a hole in the ground.
    It seems to lead into a black abyss and for some reason I hesitate, because as much as the color soothes me it's also a great unknown. Here I'm dead, gone, done with the world and all its bullshite. If I go down there though, I get the feeling that I'll be thrown right back into that shitstorm.
   I sigh sitting near the edge. I finally have what I've been wanting for a while now, but here I have this opportunity to continue. To see other 'interesting' things, see how my precious people make their place in that fucked up world.

Fuck my curiosity, still I want to see how far I can go.  

Snow Globes

    It's a strange sight to fall into your mind and find something unexpected. After all this is your mind, you should know it better than anything else on the planet. That doesn't seem to be the case for me, because when I enter my mind I'm not greeted by the usual cloudy field and lone strange-colored willow tree. Instead I'm in a room surrounded by bookshelves that seem to be filled with snowglobes.
    Curious I walk up to a shelf, because really these things can't be bigger than the palm of my hand and I'm itching to see what's inside them. I take a step towards the nearest shelf and almost immediatly step away. What's inside the tiny, glass globes? Me, or at least a version of me. In each and every single one there is a tiny version of me.
    This is confirmed when I walk around the room, just glancing at the snowglobes, but never really seeing what exactly is inside. What is this place? As soon as the thought comes to my mind a door materializes and I open it. On the other side is my usual mind scape.
    My meadow filled with colorful gas clouds, my strange, lovely willow and small pond with poppies and forgetmenot's. So this must be the bird room, except it's changed, because I'm no longer suppressing my emotions nor letting them run free. I've changed so the room has morphed as well. Curious, how very curious.
    The room intimidates me, but I return to it, because I have to learn to understand it or at least try. Emotions were never and are never going to be my strong suite, but I refuse to go to a psychologist that will tell me what they mean, so I'm gonna have to figure them out, little by little.
     I return to the previously abandoned rack and this time carefully pick up one of the globes, surprisingly the tiny me inside the globe reacts to this movement and sticks her tonge out at me. She than goes back to jumping and running around. She seems to be ammusing herself and if I bring my ear closer to the container I can hear laughter and her voice.
    This must be ammusment. It's hard to think this is anything else really, specially since the me in this looks to be a few years younger. I place the glass back and a label appears with the word 'ammused' written on it. One down, only a billion left.
    Instead of going for the one next to it I choose one off a different shelf. This me doesn't react to being picked up, just curls in on herself a bit more and continues to stare out the glass. Saddness, maybe but it doesn't seem quite right. I continue to stare at the globe, when I notice that tiny me is holding something. They look like pictures, but I can't make out what's on them. This must be longing then. I put the glass down and again a label appears.
   I do this a few times, identifying anger, sadness, joy and boredom, until I stumble upon one that frightens me a bit. It's hard to describe what emotion this could be, but tiny me is older than me, her shoulders are droopy and her hair is shaggy. She looks much too thin and is starring at the sky. It feels like I'm intruding on something, which is strange because this is my mind, but I feel an intense urge to look away. Still I observe what's going on in the sphere, because curiosity run's through my blood. I should have looked away.
    Older me looks up straight into my eyes and smiles the saddest smile I have ever seen before saying something and taking a single step forward. She's immedietly swallowed up into the darkness and I drop the globe to the floor. I stumble to the door and quickly try to escape from the room, but suddenly the door is gone and I'm stuck, stuck inside this dark room filled with things I barely understand.
    That was older me, being swallowed up by darkness, but not just any darkness, that was her giving up and taking that one step needed to end her life. That globe symbolizes utter defeat, being completely crushed, having your will to live drained out of you. I knew that I had such a dark side to me, it appears fairly often in my thoughts. I even have a fucking end date, but seeing that dead and broken look in my eyes with the saddest fucking smile on the planet. It makes me want to throw up. Instead I end up dry heaving on the floor while my body shakes. Whether it's from fear or disgust I'm not sure, but all I can do is wait until it passes.
    After what feels like an eternity my body seems to calm and I stop shaking. I look for the fallen globe expecting to find shattered glass, but instead see it intact on the other side of the room. Slowly I grab it and find myself slightly relived to find it empty. I don't look at it again worried that I will reapper, instead I carefully return it.
    A label pops up, but for some reason I can't seem to read the words written on there. I must not have understood it completly, which means that's something I'll have to reviste. Not something I'm looking forward to.
    Looking behind me I see the door and decide to try it again. This time it's unlocked and I can't help, but let out a relieved sigh. I never want to come in here again, but I know I'll return. This is something I have to do in order to grow as a person.

Your ideal world?

    You're sitting alone on your laptop, working. Typing away inside your cozy apartment. You live alone, you work from home and you don't have much contact with the outside world.
    When you finished college and got your first real job, you moved out of your fathers house. You keep in touch, barely. He calls you ever week, but you only answer every other, because you hate the monotone conversation, the questions and heavan forbid he get your grandmother on the phone.
    Mother's easier to deal with. She lives across the ocean, is generally busy with work so really only calls once a month to check on you. Everytime she calls she asks if you're coming to visite for the summer or holidays. You always say you'll talk to your brother and figure something out together, the two of you never do.
    Brother is brother. You both call each other every two weeks and have hour long conversations, but you rarely see each other, both busy with your own lives. He's trying to finish school and is so in love with his partner that you don't want to take any of his time.
    So you sit in your living room typing away at your laptop. Focused on your work, you feel numb and empty, but that's all you've ever really felt since you moved away from your childhood home. That's just a distant memory now.
    Although you remember a girl, one so close to you before now a stranger, who tried to keep in touch. You tried writing and talking, but the time difference was too much for you and it just HURT so much, that you stopped responding until eventually she gave up. She's just a distant memory now, you can barely remember her, but she appears randomly in dreams. You always wake up crying then.
    When you finish working you update the repository and shut down your computer for the day. Heading towards your kitchen you make a cup of tea and sit by a window and observe the outside world. You really don't get out much. At one point you regulerly went to a martial arts gym, but after a few years of training you decided to train on your own at home and in the park.
    Someone from your old high school messaged you recently. Inviting you to a reunion, it's only been about 8 or so years, but you guess your home room teacher wants to get everyone back together? High school doesn't really bring back good memories. Knowing you, you probably won't go.
    There was one boy, the only thing you can recall is his long blond hair. At first so shy, but you came to think of him as a friend almost. One time you met up in a park and were hanging out on a bridge feeding ducks. He seemed nervous, like he wanted to ask you something, but you interrupted him and he never did end up asking. You never really talked to him again after that.
    You feel a bit like a rock sitting at the bottom of a rushing river, looking up at the world above while you yourself are stagnant. There are moments where you think, what would life be like if a few things went a little differently? Honestly, it could still end up being the same, but you don't think on it too much. Those thoughts always make you feel more hollow and empty then usual.
    You live on the 14th floor. Sometimes you wish the window could open all the way so you could lean right out. You find yourself doing that in your usual routine imagining the wind whiping around you and the world suddenly going black. This time though there is no glass to stop you and you fall. You panic, but only for a moment, because right before you hit concrete a voice shouts at you.

WAKE UP YOU MORON!

    This isn't you! This isn't who you are! This isn't what the world bestowed upon you! DON'T YOU DARE ERASE THEM! HOW COULD YOU?They're your precious people and you're just going to forget about them, because it will hurt less? You think that if you erase your memories of love towards him, towards your sister and your brother that, that will make your pain go away? Sure it stopped for a little while, but you became an empty shell of yourself. Nothing of the person you once were, you might as well have gone splat on the ground. Trust me the world would have been better off.
    And don't go giving me any crap that, that's fine and your okay with it cause we both know what you really feel like on the inside. Stop it. There's no point in being this bitter and empty over such silly things. Those asshats don't need you, you have three people that care about you right in front of you and you want to erase them to make it easier to bare rejection? That just pisses me off even more.
    How the fuck are we the same person? I refuse to associate myself with you if this is what you have decided is your solution. Nope, kiss my ass, you wuss. Here's some tough love for you; Do you know how many people have it so much worse than you? Are you aware that your state of numbness is a daily occurence to some, because they never got to experience the beauty of truely caring for another human being before?
    What you have experienced and gone through has left you plenty of scars and heart break, but look at what's surfaced from all that pain, suffereing and loneliness. You're such a wonderful person. I understand you're fighting the temptation of the knife and I'm so proud of you for that, but this solution isn't any better. Kid, cause no matter what age you are you will always be a child on the inside, don't give in after all these years. Keep fighing or else you'll never find your own path in life. You will never find that nook you seem to so desperatly search for, so continue forward, continue fighting. And if you ever need an extra push to get you back up again,  

I'll be there.

Cat's Tail

There's blood on my hands.

No one can see it. No one really knows it's there, except for me.

I wish I couldn't see it. I wish I could ignore the bright pink scars that are no longer there, but I CAN STILL SEE THEM. 

How far must someone fall in order to hurt themselves?

It's such a long drop. Truthfully, I'm still falling deeper and deeper. There are just moments where I forget that I'm falling. Moments where I can pretend I don't here the wind whizzing past my ears or feel my hair whiping in my face.

Honestly, If my fall wasn't metophorical than it'd be so much easier to notice the giant hole that trying to swallow me whole. 

Funny thing, I feel as if it's starting from the inside. Stealing everything away, slowly, one by one. It happens to subtly to, so you don't even notice, until most of your mind has been wiped clean and your heart has been broken into tiny pieces. 

Glue and tape can only do so much, and the staples you put in so long ago are now gone. Something pried them away, slowly and carefully so you wouldn't notice. 

It let you have a pleasent run. It let you forget about the falling sensation, but now it's returned ten fold and it's swallowing you whole and you're powerless to stop it.

You can't think about the people you care about, because that only causes you more pain. You can't think about friends, because really you don't have any, and you can only distract yourself for so long.

How many more times can you look in the mirror and try to make yourself laugh? How much longer are you going to keep arguing with yourself pretending theres someone else in the room? How much longer are you going to keep up this farce? 

What's the point in trying to make yourself feel better when there's no one to really care? What's the use in having a voice if there's no one to hear it?What use are you? WHEN THERE'S NO ONE THAT NEEDS YOU?

I keep looking at my glove thinking about what was once under it and for some reason long for it to be there once again. Even though I hated those times and what I had succomed to. Here I am yet again at the edge of this pit, wondering if I'm going to let myself fall even further or try to hold on to any ledges I can grasp. 

I only have so many years left.

The only thing keeping me is curiousity.

It's like the saying with the cat, just opposite: 

Curiousity is what's keeping the cat at bay, but once it's gone then the cat goes away. 

Airport Goodbye

    I've been putting off writing for a while now. Even now I feel like I'm forcing myself to write, because I have to write. There are so many things going on in my mind, so many thoughts and tangents. I wish I didn't have them. Just like I wish so many other things that could never happen. Maybe someday this blog will turn into what I've wanted it to be for sometime now; a random place for my stories. Someplace where I can write my fucked up little shorts and maybe amuse a couple of random strangers as well. I wonder if it will ever get to that point?
    About two weeks ago I came back from america, having just spent two weeks holiday there. Whenever I come back from america I feel strange things, different things, confusing things. Usually I visit in the summer so I have time before school to sort them out, but I didn't get that this time. I had the weekend to get used to the time change, before jumping right back into school.
    That first week I was an emotional wreck on the inside. My body was having trouble adjusting to the time difference, I was stressed out cause I ended up missing two days of school and had to ask someone for notes. There were also two surprise projects that I discovered just a couple of days before their due dates. Exams are coming up and I'm super nervous and that hollow feeling in my chest was very prominent.
    Back to america, for some reason saying goodbye to my mother was a lot harder this time, then before. Maybe cause my brother wasn't at the airport to see me off, because he's coming to visit in June, so our goodbye was more of a see you later. Maybe the goodbye was so intense because at one moment I envisioned Larkspur in my mothers place and the dam just broke. Whenever I'm at the airport I don't let myself cry. Whether it's seeing someone off or setting off myself I try to keep my cool, bottle it up and focus on the day. Let the tears fall when I'm alone, at night. This time though the tears fell and I didn't care that people were staring at us two cry babies, because really they could go fuck themselves.
    This goodbye felt so weird and different than the usual goodbyes. My squirt was always there with a see you in less than a year while I'd add an extra year for my mom, this time he was gone and it was just the two of us. I don't know how to explain this. I feel like I'm running in circles. Maybe I'm angry because even though I was in the states and I spent time with my shitty family for the holidays and goofed off a ton with Squirt I never really got that much time for Larkspur. I guess I'm a spoiled brat to want to have my best friend for myself for a bit. There were days where I wanted to say see ya Ma, I'm taking the car be back tomorrow maybe and grab her from her home and return her whenever she pleases. I guess I just wanted a taste of what we had when she came to visit. Something impossible when I go their.
    Who know's when we'll get that again? If we'll ever get that again? we've reached a point in our lives where things are slowly starting. We're slowly moving forward, although she's farther than me, but I'll catch up eventually. Those days where I could randomly pop over to her house are so long gone, but I guess there was a small part of me still holding on somewhere and now it's burning me inside out. I feel like the child in me is slowly dyeing. My life is slowly being sucked out.
    Most days I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep. Whenever Aster stays the night all I want to do is curl into him and for a few hours pretend like the world doesn't exist. That life I'm trying to live out there isn't real. It's so stressful and painful. Everything hurts, but it's nothing physical. You feel so alone. I used to love going to school just to see my friends, like any other snot nosed kid. Now, I'm studying something I love, but I'm so alone that I hate it. All these fucking acquaintances and polite smiles and shit. Fucking can we stop?

    Maybe that's one of the things I was saying goodbye to.

Don't belong

    Im back in this place, this building, this country, these streets this once was home away from home. Now though, everything feels so wrong. My spirite is screaming at me to pack my bags and leave. Leave this place and the people inside, because this is wrong I don't belong here anymore, this is the past and it should be kept that way. Yet, I'm here and from the first few hours it just felt wrong. My aunt seems to glare at me or give me the cold shoulder as if she were jealous or annoyed with me. What have I done? I haven't even been in your home for 24 hours and yet you seem to loath me? I'm sorry, if there was something I could do to make it better than I would, but you won't tell me and I can't read minds so we are at an impass. I guess I'll just have to stay out of your way till I leave. It's only a few days and the basement is large so I can hide down there. Doesn't keep me from wondering what I have done to earn such a look from you.
    Everyone here still views me as a child, which isn't surprising because family will always see you as such and my baby face probably doesn't help, but this is overwhelming. You don't have to keep asking me what I want to eat and if you should make something for me, if everything is okay, blah blah blah. I will eat when I'm hungry and will try to make something for myself. Don't mind me just let me do me please.
    It's difficult finding food to eat here because I'm so used to just eating rice with veggies, yet here all they have is a lone bell pepper and nothing more. Where's the zuccini? The red and white onions? Broccoli should always be present and there should never be a single bell pepper, don't you know they enjoy being in pairs of groups, all different colors of course. Radishes sometimes like to hang out, but only if there's cottage cheese as well as green onions. Leek's always there as well, even though I don't enjoy it's company too much and how could you forget garlic and ginger, those are staples to any meal. These basic of most basic things that I'm so used to seeing when I open the fridge are gone, nonexistent.
    It's confusing because the cool box is filled with things, different plastic boxes of shapes and sizes, drinks of the sort and meats, but nothing really calls out to me. It's barely been three days, but I already miss my empty frindge at home where it's only filled with what you need and nothing more. The pantry is where we keep things needed once in a while, canned goods, nuts, dried fruit and grains. Sure if you want something at our house you have to cook it to eat it, but that's just how it's been for us for the longest of times. Not to mention our own system.
    It's all so different and I can't seem to find myself here, especially with my aunts eyes burning a hole into my side. What have I done!? I'm sorry, I just wanted to try to reconnect with you all, because family and that bullshite. Specially since I probably won't see you all ever again. I try to crack jokes and get a few laughs, but nothing everyone's so serious here and I feel like I'm sufficating. Why are you so stern and set in your views don't you know that life is short and should be enjoyed to some extent or at least tried to, while at the same time scorned because life is an asshole.
    For fucks sake I can't crack a joke about dieing without people staring at me like I'm crazy. Oi, I'm allowed to do this shit, talk about waiting to die and leting my life blood flow from me, my soul slowly draining from my eyes. Here everyone seems to start when I say something similar. Are you unaware that you will eventually leave this plane of existence? Or do you try to ignore that as you go along with your pointless lives? Don't get me wrong I'm not trying to put them down or make fun of them, this is just fact. People passing on is sad, you're losing someone that meant something to you, filled your life with some meaning, gave it more color. They will be missed, but that doesn't mean you should avoid death like the plague. It's a fact of life that everyone will face in some shape or form.
    I'm not sure what I'm doing. Last time I was here I acted the way they wanted me too, but now I'm too comfortable with myself. I'm not afraid to show my personaltiy be who I am, but I can see it's not wanted or appreciated. I guess, I'll just be quite and stay here in the basement. I don't want to put on an act for you all just so you can remember someone I'm not. It's sad, because I wanted to get to know you all again, remember you in some way shape or form, because I really don't have too much family, but I guess I won't. It's too bad, I'm not perfect in any way nor am I an interesting person but I'd like to think I'm a good presence and conversationalist, after all I have a lot of friends that are a lot older than me and we all get along pretty well, so what's holding you back?

    Only time will tell I guess. 

An Old You

Do you ever wonder what happened to the younger you, the child you?

You know, the one that saw the world and wasn't afraid of it's vastness.

Had dreams for the future that never seemed too big or small.

Wanted to grow up and see the world without anything holding them back.

That innocent you, unaware of so many things, yet still so happy with everything around them.

So naive and childish, but that is exactly what you were for the longest time.

One day though you grew up.

It didn't happen over night, nor were you aware of it, but it happened. You probably didn't realize it until you looked back and really thought about it.

Still it's not something you want to think about, because honestly you don't know what happened to the younger you. The one filled with dreams and hope, innocents that is no longer within you, a purer you, you could almost say.

What happened to them?

Were they snuffed out by those around them?

Stomped into the ground by self preservation in the hope to better blend in with their surroundings?

Did they adapt in order to live more comfortably, safer?

Could you yourself have killed them off? Like an old childhood friend that you no longer had anything in common with?

Because in order to get to know the world you had to grow up, so you had to leave your childish self behind. 

For their naivety was something that you no longer could hold on to. Their hopes and dreams that they had scarred and overwhelmed you.  Their innocence and pureness felt so foreign to you, that you stepped away, because you didn't want to taint them. 

Your past self. Something that was your beginning, but now is just a stranger that you can't understand. 

Sometimes you look back and wonder, was that really what I did, how I acted. Sometimes you can't even remember them. All you have to go on are glimpses that remind you of what you were.

That doesn't keep you from thinking- what if?

Doesn't keep you from wondering, if the small bit of white innocents filled with the hopes and dreams that only a child can have, is still in you somewhere.

You try not to think about it anyway, wondering where they went, if they are still maybe here, somewhere, hidden. If all that's left are traces of something you once were or have they been snuffed out.

Still when you do look back you smile while thinking of a fond memory, because a long time ago, before the world changed you, you were that innocent ball of light that so many others once were.