Friday, July 29, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
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
I feel that I haven't let you down.
Friday, July 22, 2011
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
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
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?