Lixie_ho

The words she yelled,

That made my heart swell

With pain and pain.

She said for no gain,

Sometimes I worry

Why is she never sorry

Sometimes I wish my mother

Was another.

Sometimes I wish, in my head

That in my place, was another

For my mother,

When they ask me what my mom was like during my childhood

I close my eyes and try to imagine something normal to respond

But all I can see is a very small version of me

Reading books to myself & putting myself to sleep.

I ache for something I've never had.

Some sense of belonging or open arms

If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty would be my name. For the rest: my loves, my hates, down even to my deepest desires, I can no longer say whether these emotions are my own, or stolen from those I once so desperately wished to be.

It secretly terrifies me that I have no solid personality or identity.

If you asked me who am I could only give you a name and age.

I am a moth whose calling is the bright light, but I am a moth afraid of the flame it burns.

Will I fly or fall?

Will I float or down?

Is the flight worth the wait?

Is the water worth the pain?

Is it worth to fly over lava? When I want to float over a shallow pool?

These are the questions I ask as a tremble for no reason at all, these are the questions that keep me awake after the gush. After the blood runs halt, I often ask myself? Why am I calm with my ankles slit and in pain surrounded by the crowds.

Why am I tried with tired even though all I very do is rest, why am I so facing this harsh melancholy with the perfect life?

and i just waste it; this life of mine. hand over hand. the days slip in between each other and nestle in ugly spurs. what did you do today? how many hours have i spent, neither truly here nor truly there. just frozen. wanting desperately to begin anything. get up and shower or work out or drink water or make a change or dance along or be a person - just get up. my insides, coating the edges of blank atrophy. how hard can it truly be? people do this every day. they make their life every day. why can't i? why am i stuck here? why am i stuck like this, with only my heart and no boat? the shifting warning - you need to start swimming, you can't always just float. but what else, when my limbs don't move and there's no sound for the breach of my throat? what else, and where am i going? what shore am i supposed to even be wading out for? nothing and nothing and nothing. the swinging, empty bridge, and no railing.

| want so badly to be present. To engage other beings with love and kindness, with sincerity and compassion. I feel all these things, but in a distracted, distant manner that eludes my attempts at contact. There is something in the way. A barrier of mind, separating me from everything else. It exists only through my creation, yet even in my awareness, I am unable to cease creating it.

This partition, it follows me as I immerse myself in situations that allow the greatest opportunity to exercise the caring and interest, that I desire to express. I am not really there. I am only a shadow of what I pretend to be, and most remain in ignorance of this, as i wade through apathy in pursuit of a connectedness that I understand only in theory

The cold wind gushed by, Felixs hands still trembling but not because of the wind, rather because of his spiralling thoughts. 

Forcing his head down, he placed shaky palms on his ears as a lousy attempt to hide from the constant noise. If only it was the room and not his own mind that was creating the insufferable sounds. 

He stared at his legs that felt weak unfamiliar but soon the rapidly running drops caught his attention. Was he crying? He didn't deserve to cry, he didn't deserve to feel. Forcing his eyes shut, he tried to stop his breath, hoping it would come back to normal as he let go. He felt tried, not that he deserved too, he had barely done anything today. Stressing over minor inconveniences, how pathetic was he really?

Everyone had problems, everyone had issues and Felixs weren't that important compared to others anyway. Maybe his family was right, maybe he was over-reacting, or being over-sensitive. 

'Deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in...' he repeated the mantra, over and over and yet it seemed to bring more harm then good, 'like me', he giggled to himself about his own little joke, ignoring how messed up it was. 

Felix deep down wanted the members to notice, to care, to help but that was just his wild expectations right? They were all merely co-workers, roomates at most, expecting them to comfort him was too much, he should listen to his family, they know best. 

The tears were running dry, his face felt numb, his body felt numb and he knew soon he’ll be numb too. 

It was always like this, a brush of sudden excessive emotions and then black, pitch black. He didn't feel sad anymore though, that was a good thing right? He thought to himself. 

'I'm not sad, that means I am OK right?' He'd often ask himself, but every single time he knew, he knew this was worse. The numbness, the apathy. He was slowly but surely deteriorating into a hole of nothing.  


 _________________________________


"Hey we have practice later so we are gonna go eat now, wanna come with?" Jisung ever-so-sweetly asked, he and felix always had been close, maybe because they clicked so much, or maybe because they were the same age or was it was because jisung was one of the few people who knew about felix's.. problems? Maybe. 

"Nah, you go ahead" he didn't want to repeat what happened last time. The annoyed waiter tapping is foot rapidly waiting for him to choose, his mind hazzy from the bustling noise of the busy restaurant, he remembers feeling suffocated while his eyes and mind were everywhere but the menu, he probably annoyed the members too right? Who wouldn't be annoyed. 

"Ya sure? No one is cooking later tonight since we're eating out" jisung inquired again, making sure Felix wasn't just saying it because he didn't want to move. 
"Yes yes, go already, others are probably waiting" 

"Oh they can wait for this magnificence that is thy" he mumbled the words with sass and he closed the door on the was out, waving a lazy goodbye towards the latter. It had been a while since he went out with them, maybe he should have gone? But he didn't want to though, well what If they thought felix didn't want to be with them?  And down he went, dragged by the weight of his meaningless thoughts into a hobbit he was all too familiar with.

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Life was weird? Sometimes he felt as though he was falling into a deep dark hole with an limitless end but for a while it all seemed to disappear. Maybe it was a mirage in his dayless dessert, whatever it was he never seemed to be able to enjoy it. He felt whole with his anxiety as much He'd hate to admit, it was a part of him that was just there.

While in this seemingly paradise he felt out of place, guilty even. 

Today was not one of those days though. 
Maybe because he felt okay, good even that things came crashing down. He had felt productive a few hours prior, he practiced for his language, dance and vocals classes and even managed gaining broken compliments from his stingy trainers, he went out with the members, ate, maybe not something healthy but at least it wasn't forced down this throat while he cluched his thigh. 

The headache was the first sign he choose to ignore, the lack of concentration though he couldn't. It wasn't that what he was doing was considered 'work', he was plainly looking for shows to bringe with a bag of 'healthy' chips. 

Click
Vinland sage; 7 minutes 


Click
Big bang theory; 12 minutes 


Click
Space force; 6 minutes 


Click
The office; 14 minutes


Click
Re:zero; 4 minutes 


Click

Maybe he should draw? Nah, hyunjin was better then him anyways, though it didn't occur to him why that was his first thought. Yes, he should play the guitar- he always wanted to learn the instrument for stay. 

He walked down to Channies room and grabbed the extra guitar, grabbed a pick from the jar on the table next to changbin's laptop and went back to his shared room with jisung, though jisung was hardly there, cuddled up in minho's bed, which was apparently way more fluffier than it seemed. Sitting on his bed he sighed and waited for nothing in particular, shoulders drunk down, eyes worn out and tried. 

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Nights were weird, sometimes he would sleep soundlessly some nights he’d lie awake busying himself with work.

But tonight was different, well not that different, these feelings came back time to time, though he could never pin point when. 

In these nights, 
he was hungry, but couldn't eat?
Was tried, but couldn't sleep? 
Wanted to do something, but couldn't concentrate? 

Sitting in the corner of the shared dorm room, felix curled up in middle of the intersecting walls, next to the bunk bed he and Jisung shared, who was probably as usual cuddling with Minho in minho's and chan's dorm while chan stayed up like himself, just more productive.

Felix was in pain

His head hurt, body hurt and yet he found himself pulling, twisting and pressing the fresh peircing on his helix, something he got a few day ago. It hurt, it hurt bad but that didn't stop him from doing again and again and again and again. 

Pulling, he winced eyes shut close for a brief moment and he internalised the pain, after all it helped him stay grounded.

Twisting, he instinctively tried to pull way but he pulled through, the fresh wound throbbing with pain, it helped him stay conscious, stay sane in a weird sort of way.

Pulling, blood slowly tricked down his ears onto his fingers towards his palms, ears really did bleed that much huh?, it helped him concentrate, concentrate on the flowing bright blood and it trailed down, spreading all over.

Isn’t it funny? I am enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed my love.

Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you and changes its mind. But hatred, now, that’s something you can use. Sculpt, wield. It’s hard, or soft, however you need it.

Love humiliates you, but hatred cradles you.

Love makes you do things you don’t want to, hatred gives you an excuse to not do things you don’t want to. Love hurts, hatred comforts.

Hatred is like a thick blanket

People are rivers, ever changing, ever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put in them.

But remember, even if they leave, they disappear, they are never truly gone. From the memories of peace and pain to the marks they left on our earth, they are never truly gone.

They are a sign of life, of their and ours. A tranquil moment and torturous storm.

I feel every insult like a sensitive tooth,

I feel my dreams rotting underneath my fingertips,

I feel too much of everything all the time

Or I feel nothing of everything all the time

I question late at night, gazing the stars dipped in moonlight, why fear death?

I was dead for billions and billions of years before this form of life and had not suffered the slight inconvenience thought out.

Life, life on the other had, it thought me everything I know today, everything I feel today, everything that is in me today.

All the pain, the beauty, the cruelty, the magnificence, the melancholy, the nature, the numbness, the pride, the ego.

Everything

But does it ever even out? Does the satisfaction ever out live the pain? Does the problem fall more than the solution?

Does the blood drip faster than the plasma that repairs?

I read about death, I found it fascinating how something so beautiful is so terrifying at the same time.

How lying in a grass field, flowing with the breeze being together with the dandelions floating around, without the pain of yesterday and the train wreak of tomorrow. Forgetting the sour limbs, forgiving life, with the peace of being forgotten.

Can some thing I crave at nights, turn dark and hallow.

Pitch black, no arms or legs or you and me. In the void of shame, guilt , regret I float around, without even a body to punish or a brain to thread excuses. There, forever and ever. Dark. Suffocating. Death is what I think about, as my feet linger too long while crossing a busy road, as my knees tingle as I stare at the ground 38 ft down, as I notice spare pills in an empty room.

I always slept so good in classrooms filled with chaos and laid wide awake in the silence that suffocated my room at ungodly hours.

What comfort do we find in this noise, what comfort do we find in the destruction of our own solitude?

Is it the noise that we have allied with or the negative space it avoids.