Open Wounds.

You get those days where you want to just die.
More specifically, kill yourself.
Today's one of those days.

It's terrifying to think that the very people who were supposed to keep you from getting hurt are the ones who cause the worst wounds - in terms of size and pain. And even though it may not seem possible, things actually get more terrifying when you realize that, because it's your very protectors who caused the wounds, they're not there to help you in the healing process.
Now we all know that if someone, particularly an emotionally broken and distressed individual, if left to their own devices can result in two possible conclusions. One, they actually manage to somehow mend their broken hearts or two, they just worsen the wounds, unable to take the pain.

I know which path I'm about to take - don't follow me.

Disconnected

Ever felt like you were slipping away? No, being pushed away?
As if the golden threads that bound you to people in your life were now fraying, tearing under pressure?
The closer you walk, the further everyone else runs away from you.
The voices get softer, the stares get colder and before you know it, you're alone.

Alone.

Every little lightbulb, dead.
Every circuit, fused.
Every connection, severed.
Every face, a mirage.
Every memory, a ghost.

Nothing's real anymore.

People Always Leave

It may seem to most as a fan worship of a faithful One Tree Hill follower but in actuality, the drawing is a testament to a core characteristic in every human being, soap-opera-character or not : fear.

Why do people leave? Because they need to run.
Why do they run? Because they have to hide from something.
Why do they hide? They're afraid.

Their fear is, on another plane, selfishness.
To run from something, you leave something behind - someone, something, a place, an emotion.
What you see as escape, someone else sees as betrayal.
What you see as a new beginning, they see as a bitter end.

Broken hearts, broken friendships, broken promises lie in the wake of a getaway.
Next time, think a minute before you take off.

Back in business.

It's been almost a month since the last post. I seriously missed not writing. This is what exam season does to you and exactly why they should be abolished - drives you a little insane, crazy, off the edge. The torture's coming to a close in less than a week. Let the juices flow. 

They don't care.

Have you ever thought that whatever you're waiting for is not worth it? All the long spent and hopes discarded in the belief that IT will come one day and surpass everything - is the sacrifice worth the outcome? Do the ends justify the means?

We wait for understanding - it never comes.
We wait for love - it breaks our hearts.
We wait for people - and they don't know what we are to them.

Unwritten

I wrote a story today. When I had finished, everything was perfect.

Then I glanced over the page and felt something was wrong.

The characters weren’t people. They were, physically, but inside of them raged wicked monsters of hatred and jealousy, their veins bursting with evil blood. They had to go – so I erased them.

The scenery wasn’t pleasing to the eye – in reality, it was marred by small runs in the canvas, a sad tear here, a screaming voice there. There was nothing of beauty. I changed it. Actually, I decided the story would be better without the scenery so I trashed it altogether.

There were scars. Dark, painful reminders of the hurt and trauma in the past.

Fix them, I thought. So with a needle and thread, I sewed up the wounds. But when I looked at them, no matter how much sewing, the scars showed. I tried so hard to put it behind, hide it – yet it managed to show its ugly self. Out came the eraser.

Some of the events that occurred seemed surreal to me. I didn’t understand how or why they happened, or why people acted the way they did. One thing was certain – they didn’t belong.

And they went too.

The lead character scared me. She was a compassionate friend and caring person. Those were her flaws. People used them to their advantage – walked all over her, left her dying in the debris.

From that point on, I got rid of everything that scared, hurt or upset me.

When I looked over what remained, there was nothing but a blank page.

I erased everything that I didn’t want there, everything that I wished had never happened – I’d erased the whole story.

I looked again, and I couldn’t find myself anymore. I wasn’t there. There was no one looking at the blank page, no one sitting at the writer’s desk.

I’d erased myself in the process.

Anger Management

Anger is a multi-faceted emotion.

So temperamental that people can’t even make up their minds on how to handle it.

An optimist would tell you to let it all out – they believe that anger can be settled and dissipated with mere talk and mediation. Sharing your feelings with someone is healthy for you, helps you get a load of your chest and keeps you from going crazy.

I’m an optimist at times.

To others, never to myself.

A pessimist – such as I am to myself – would tell you to keep shut. Lock everything up inside of you, letting it out would only hurt others. They don’t believe it can ever be solved so they just expect your anger to suffocate and die inside you. A bird slammed in a cardboard box with no holes. It’ll hammer against the edges, pleading and protesting to be set free. Finally, when it is clear that all hope is lost, it surrenders to asphyxiation and dies a quiet death.

But that’s the bird – the bird is not anger.

Anger will never submit to a passive death.

It will hammer at the box…and keep on hammering. If and when it does go silent, it is not dead. It is waiting. Lurking, prowling in the darkest depths of the soul. Feeding on pain and darkness till it has grown strong, energized on the rivers of misery and hurt that sustain it. Rabid and ravenous.

Revengeful.

What you try to suppress will not be silenced for long and one day, it will show itself.

And that’s when you find yourself going mad.

As the Cheshire Cat so aptly put it “We all go a little mad sometimes”

All it takes is a little anger to send you around the bend.