Friday, July 29, 2011

Untapped Potential

Isn't it a shame that we don't even scratch the surface of our potential? There is so much we can do, so much we can become, and yet, we sit stagnant our entire lives, not bothering to grow; we're like flower buds which begin to blossom, but stop ourselves before we burst into full bloom. Our true beauty, our true nature, and our true potential are all erased by strokes made with our own hands. Are we too afraid? Or are we too lazy? Or do we not even consider the possibility that we could be so much more than we are?

I want to change that; I want to grow. I want to be as amazing as I can possibly be in one lifetime. What about you?

Thursday, July 28, 2011

My Suicide

I wander now from thought to thought in my head, stepping from one to another as seamlessly as changing breaths. It's the only natural thing I know. Some I bound to, embracing them like they are the elixir of life. Others I dodge, weave around and avoid because they're memories I don't want to face, truths I don't want to know, or people I don't want to remember. But they creep up, silent as death, and I crash right into them, obstacles which appear too late to avoid from out of the fog. Most I wish to never see again; their silver shadows I keep trying to leave behind.

I committed suicide, of sorts. I tried to kill my past and all the people in it. I tried to purge my life of them all, those friends I never really cared much about, and even those who meant the world to me. For a time I thought clinging to them would stop me from drowning, but one day, I realised they were the reason I was drowning. They suffocated me because I was not like them; I was content to be outside of normal social parameters, but they kept trying to stuff me back in. They didn't know they were doing it, but they were. So I gave them all up, all you people who cared about yourselves. A clean break. Well, as clean a break as you can have in this society of non-existent privacy.

I created a world where I can be left alone with pen and a notebook of blank paper, words and thoughts and sketches streaming from the pen, bleeding ink across the pages which absorb my very essence. Those I hold more dear to me than any man, woman or child, and such it will always be. They contain those thoughts I drift through, the dreams which haunt my sleep, the hopes which brighten my waking hours, and the emotions I hold inside. Splashed across the paper are things far more interesting, wild and fantastical to me than any person will ever be. It may be a reclusive existence, but it is the perfect one for me. I don't regret my suicide.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Those Who Inspire

You came in for the first time in a while, with your cute as a button nose and shy smile and gave me a soft "hello". I just wanted to say that I miss seeing you, even if we never talk. Inexplicably, you make me want to be better, in the way of an older sister, or mentor, so I'm going to try harder to be better, just so
I feel that I haven't let you down.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Beneath the Surface

For a second there, just a second, my head fell down from the clouds and shattered upon the ground. There my mind lay, splattered across the pavement, thoughts running in the rivulets of blood. For the first time, I could read them, the thoughts which hid beneath the surface, overrun by daydreams and fantasies. The truth surprised me.

It turns out, I'm not ready, like I always thought I was. I still want it, I still need it, but I'm not ready. That realisation terrifies me.

Sunday, July 17, 2011


Life's a celebration and we should all be thankful that we have a chance to attend. Make the most of it. All that time you spend hating someone could be spent loving them, forging ties and having more fun than you thought was possible. Don't waste the chance given to you, otherwise you're going to get to the end of it and wonder where the hell it all went. So sing an epic song, dance like your life depends on it, and laugh like you don't have to breathe.

The Errant

I used to be discontent, you know, drifting around like I was a leaf caught on an errant breeze. I used to think that I wanted to be settled, that I wanted to find someplace where I could rest. I used to feel out of place with you people, like I was too weird to be with you, like I was forced to the outskirts, to the shadows just because I wasn't really like you. I used to think that there was something wrong with me, with the way I acted. I used to think that I felt out of place because of my attitude, but actually, my attitude was a reaction to your actions. I used to think that it was I who was in the wrong. I know better now. I just thought you should know that.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Memento Mori

The distant memory of an ancient past drifts to me on the vague mists of imagination and remind me of a time that might have been. In return I hunger for such times, immemorial, dead, disrespected; a whole history wiped away and all but forgotten by the collective consciousness, except as foggy dreams and disillusioned legends. They were important once, the most important thing in existence, and the foresight that one day it would not be did not exist, much as our society is now. But if such ancient civilisations could fall, if whole cultures and people could be erased almost entirely from modern memory, then it goes to stand that one day we too shall be nothing but forgotten thoughts, ancient ancestors whose bloodlines are no longer traceable, and even with our modern disposition to meticulously record everything, from past, present and hoped for future, all that too shall disappear. Such is the working of time. And no mortal can stop it; neither you nor I, nor our children, nor our children's children, nor even their offspring. They will continue to reproduce, and we will continue to melt into the shadows of the past until one day we have become little more than dust, the soil from which our distant descendants reap their produce, without a single thought to their long dead relatives from which their families were sprung. Will it not be so? Are we not the same? Life goes on and death stops for no one.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Sadistic Pleasure

Are you scared of me still? Does my name make you tremble?
I hope so. I want to leave this world knowing that at one time in my life someone was absolutely terrified of me. It might not be because of my actions, it might not be because of my words, but I'd be happy knowing that the thought of my presence again in your life sends you into nervous fits. God knows I've sent you spiralling into panic attacks in the past, but this time I want you to panic at just the thought of having to see me again.

I saw what you did there, playing indecisive until I made my own decision. Don't think that I'm stupid enough not to know what's going on. I get a satisfaction from it, truth be told. I like knowing that you don't want to see me again. It tells me that you're too scared to face me.
Personally, it's not your presence which deters me, but the presence of others. I spent too long being the one forgotten in the corner, so tell me, why would I go to see such 'friends' again? Not worth my while, wouldn't you say? Not worth the effort. I have others now who don't make me feel that way. I'd say I'm better off. I'm better off without you, and mostly, I'm better off without them. Life ain't so bad now, you know, with you lot purged from my life. Remember those days of depression I had, sinking down into some indefinable misery? I don't have those days anymore. Funny, isn't it? Doesn't that tell you something? Tells me something.

I don't regret anything, not anymore, not now that I see that I am where I am because all of that happened and that here is better that there was ever going to be. But that doesn't stop me wanting you to be terrified. That doesn't stop me from smiling because I know you are. The Coward and the Sadist, that's who we really were all the while, isn't it? Funny how the roles reversed quite often, isn't it?