Musings

Maybe it’s the pain in my chest, Or the chemicals in my brain. But either way, I know “normal” people don’t get like this. They don’t get this sad.

i. i fall back into old habits with no grace, with too much ease, with hands more wanting than they should be. i am knee deep in pools of blood and bad decisions and something about this feels like home. too used to this dull aching, too familiar with this godlessness. ii. i used to be a saint, now i’m just a sinner. i used to be a devotee, now i’m the faithless bitch at the devil’s right hand. here is metamorphosis in reverse: see how the angel falls back to hell? see how she doesn’t try to catch herself? iii. here is where the good things come to die. here is where heaven turns upside down and leaves me behind. here is girl gone rotten, gone hellward, gone beyond repair. she comes here and prays to the god she deserted. she asks him to end her.

when you’re living in this world and a parallel universe, and all you have is one mind, it stretches, it sizzles, it suffers. like how you put one foot in one boat and the other in another one, and then you drown because you can’t sit in two boats at once. you can’t live in two worlds at once, especially when they’re polar opposites. you can’t be sane living in reality and in your own imagination. you just can’t. what draws the line between extreme eccentricity and borderline insanity? art. poetry. anything that coexists in both worlds. from the artist’s creative realm to the medium, the canvas or the novel, and then into reality. that’s the middle ground, the purgatory.

Oh jeez, SCANDAL….

Oh god. He’s on REVENGE too. How deep does this rabbit-hole go….

Oh my god. DEXTER.

THE ACTUAL NEWS

Who has the better relationship with Bo?

i am afraid that if i open myself i will not stop pouring. (why do i fear becoming a river. what mountain gave me such shame.)

You’ve made your choice. It wasn’t me. Stop looking at me like you think there’s a way to undo that decision.

“Help me,” I want to scream, “Please God don’t leave me alone with my mind.” I bite back my yell, blink twice and take in a breath. “I’m fine,” I reply, smiling weakly, “How are you?” You spill all the colours of your mind on me and I scramble to help you rearrange them into a picture we can contemplate together. “I feel like such an idiot,” you whisper hours later, your cheeks still wet with tears. “Don’t you dare say that, it’s better that you tell me than you battle it by yourself. If you’re going to wage war on your dark thoughts, you can’t do it without an army,” I joke. You laugh and thank me. Maybe for some weird reason you ask me once again if I’m doing alright. Irony smiles down upon me as once again, I say, “Honestly, I’m fine.” With my head erupting and the sky burning and the stars crying and the world spinning and all the colours of every hue forcing themselves into my eyes, I give you a ‘carefree’ grin and walk away.