Nothing helps. I wanna write, but it never works out. I feel lonely. There’s no one in my life. People are too complicated. I’m sorry, Abby. I miss them… nevermind, I don’t. There are only so many ways to waste a life away. Self-harm… no, it doesn’t do anything. Aren’t I too old for this? YouTube’s not loading. Fuck September. It’s cloudy and the air is fresh. The moon’s craters look like bubbles on burning flesh. Huh, that worked out better than I expected. I should just get up, but it’s always in vain. No need to be so negative. Get your ass up and get out there! Sigh. Um, do you want to do something? We can lie on the grass and gaze at the night sky. No? ‘Kay. We should, we should, we should… I dunno. What makes you get up? Catch you later, I’m going to sleep.
You tempt me with images untrue
Promising sands of gold and skies of blue
With a passionate caress and wicked smile
You bathe your fangs in my denial
Seduced by words of the sweetest taste
I will allow you my life to waste
Slaving myself to a lifeless trance
While you perform your entrancing dance
Once ecstasy has taken its sudden leave
And strips the sensation from under my sleeves
I’ll run back into your unforgiving arms
Once again entangled in your enchanting charm
I rarely post anything ‘real’ because I often find little purpose in doing so. That, and the fact that I am not eloquent in any way. Yet, I often find myself attempting to form a decent, coherent post without it sounding like a nonsensical, pretentious mess (this very post is already starting to sound like one, eh?), but nothing ever surfaces. Even if it did, I would probably go crazy with overanalyzing every word and detail contained within. I really hate my mind sometimes. I wish I could express myself with ease and vigor like many here do, but I guess I could still try. See? This shit is going nowhere.
Anyway, I greatly value this site. Maybe even too much so. For years, and even now, this has been the only place on the internet where I actually post stuff on. It’s the only place online where I feel comfortable enough to share things with. SP is littered with an almost intimate view of human life: tales of despair and hope, art, humor, wisdom, life experience, death, depression, religion, trauma, etc. Almost everything else just seems so trivial in comparison. I suppose the same could be said about many other places online, but I have yet to run into one that truly captures the essence of this thing called life… Or maybe I just need to get off this site and get out more. Who knows, who cares? Or maybe I’m just getting too sentimental. “But why should I care?”, I occasionally ask myself. A site where suicide, of all things, is the main ingredient, and it just so happens to be one of the things that keeps me tethered to life. That just seems a little nonsensical. In retrospect, it’s just another place people go to to talk and tell, nothing more, but I value it nonetheless. The grand real-life characters whom I’ve communicated with on here over the years are irreplaceable to me and will most likely remain so. I’ve learned, experienced, and read many things here that I probably wouldn’t have had I not been involved with this site. So, thanks, SP and all of its authors/commenters.
Slipping into the hole of depression is so easy. I could probably fall back in and barely realize it. It’s like treading through a darkened forest and never knowing where your foot will land. I’ve been in and out of that hole countless times over the past ten years, and I’m not sure what to expect next. For now, I feel rather content, but contentment is always subject to change. Much like suddenly falling into depression’s dark hole, I could go from living like a king to aimlessly wandering the streets in the blink of an eye, and I don’t believe any human is immune to such quick, drastic change – such is life. I guess I’m just a little scared that one day I will go back to being that depressed, angry, lost kid that first stumbled across this site many years ago. Although, I’ve never relived the same level of despair I had back then, I still get fluctuating feelings of hope and hopelessness and the like. I don’t think I’ll ever be truly free from suicidal urges, either. Even when I’m not depressed, I still often feel like life is pointless and dumb. I still occasionally head up to my spot to clear my head, knowing that I can leave at any time I choose. However, I also can’t help but feel less ‘genuine’ now than when I was younger. Now, I look at myself and think that I now lack the expressiveness and openness that I once had. I’m sure it still lies under the veil of apathy and humor that I often wear, but taking that veil off has become difficult. How does one show kindness without potentially causing some sort of negative stir up? What makes a good person? Sometimes I would like nothing more than to be a genuine person who has the ability to reach others in a positive manner, but does it really matter? Or is everything in this universe just a pointless pile of shit? It all depends on your perspective, I guess.
I’m not sure what the point of this post was, but whateva. I just wanted to try to put my random thoughts into words, which I don’t do very often. I suppose it’s better than keeping everything inside and/or playing the good ol’ slice n’ dice on my body when I’m under some sort of distress. Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever written anything this long on here before. It looks… odd.
Anyway, best regards to anyone who happens to stumble across this.
A land filled with cries and screams
Will never slither into my dreams
And the tenacious snakes of man
Can never suffocate my broken hand
A lifelong stay in corrupted flesh
Brings distorted views unable to rest
And skies obscured by blackened clouds
Shadow the ground in lifeless shrouds
A child’s blood cannot paint or write
On the pages of pavement’s faded white
And a blinded mind can’t see or read
Without clear, unmarred eyes to lead
And a world losing its only sentry
Means nothing to one who lies empty
There is no flower
That waits for me
There is no power
That allows me to be free
There is no sun
That rains on me
There is no fun
That shrouds me with glee
There is no comfort
That embraces me
There is no resort
That welcomes what I see
There are secrets kept
That call to me
Just one step
And I am free