“bro can you hear my stomach sing” “yeah man I can” “it’s singing to you” “b r o”

I met up with Cupid the other night. 

And in that dream, I wanted to disappear

And the thought of it became so tangible

That I saw it in the threads of my clothes

( "fade away" )

I found it written in the shading of my art

( "I should leave" )

I saw it dancing beneath the dark waves of a beckoning, violent ocean,

( "break away" )

saw it etched in the finite moment of all the stars crashing into the horizon

( "nothing left; leave" )

I am not a stranger to this feeling

am I unhinged or just lost at sea?

Yes indeed

I had a dream

(So I rested my chin on the coldness of a gun)

I had a dream

(And I blew my own face to pieces)

I had a dream

Is this what panic attacks are like? I wouldn't have reckoned I'd be prone to them, I felt more so at a loss of how to handle the emotional bucket of ice dumped over me suddenly by God knows what. But maybe indeed I did panic. I like being able to breathe and feeling choked up inside to the point you would worry about passing out is not… quite my idea of fun, speaking as a person who nearly drowned twice and who had respiratory problems as a kid.

Don't know if it's caused from all the repressed shit I bottle up or what, but those moments were something that made me feel so fucking vulnerable. In the whirling storm of the moment, I would reach out in desperation to the few people I felt I could confide in and admit weakness to, hoping for someone to anchor me to my senses in the flash food of my mind. Sometimes, however, those moments happened when no one was online to respond to my distressed messages. And holy fucking shit, I'd feel somehow worse off in the calm that came after dealing through an episode of it alone, even after regaining my breath and senses.

Alas, during that time I mentioned, I just voiced my worries about my friend who was in bad company to the person and did not speak of my actual personal troubles.

Fast forward a few years and I became aware that I was in need of help for all the repressed issues in me due to not having a healthy outlet and communication but I was never taken seriously enough for my requests for seeking help of some sort to go through with my parents and I guess I was good at hiding most of the symptoms of having troubles. I wasn't a Typical Trouble Child picking fights at school. Not to say that I didn't have several scuffles but I was mostly fighting myself inside.

I vaguely remember the times the screws in my brain went loose and I did the oddest shit. Constantly spoke to myself out loud while home alone. Laughing uncontrollably at morbid things. Having a sudden gripping fear of microwaves and balloons for no reason. Hearing languages as other languages. Going crazy in the vaguest of ways.

It was a weird time for me.

Did I get better after that? Yes and no. I never got the help I needed and further down the line I snapped so hard a good chunk of my memories of high school was wiped after I BSOD'ed after certain incidents.

Why am I splurging this all online? I guess to find a reason to type and also to acknowledge it to myself, however painful it is, that what I went through isn't normal but it happened, even if I forget sometimes and live like I don't have a past. Sometimes media likes to give you a picture of how your youth years are supposed to go, be it parties, prom stupid school dramas, chasing crushes, first heartbreaks and being stressed over exams with friends, and it's damaging in a way that makes you feel lesser for not having experienced those things while a certain age since you were dealing with other issues and mental isolation.

This has been going on all year

Yet nothing feels inherently right

I'm constantly battling the desire to disappear

Like a ship going up and down monstrous waves of the sea

The heights, the depths