Hello. It’s been a little while. It’s testing week. Had to study. Should be studying. Wanted to do a quick post. This post is going to be dumb and whiny. Please don’t be mad. I can’t handle it when girls smile at me. It bothers me. A part of me thinks that she might like me or think I’m attractive. Then the bigger part of me thinks that’s stupid and would never happen. I really don’t know how to talk to or be around girls. I can’t really even handle it if they look in my direction. This one girl I don’t even know that well keeps looking in my direction and it kills me. I know I’m not attractive or even that nice. I’m a pretty shitty guy. Thing is that part of me that has that bit of hope keeps scrapping in my mind. Keeps popping up and annoying me. I hate it. Even if a girl was interested, for whatever bizarre reason, there’s nothing I can do about it. Too much baggage. Too afraid that she would realize that she is wrong. What if I have a panic attack when she is around? Too much baggage. I doubt I would even make a good guy. Sorry for the whiny post. Won’t post for a while. I have tests. Need to study. Bye.
Broken smiles say a lot
Sometimes theyâ€™re not what you thought
They change a person, make them hide
and then one day you may find that smile was the one that died
They made hold secrets people donâ€™t care to know
They may hide feeling that are so low
Sometimes you may wonder why that smile appears
When theyâ€™re full of the taste of tears
You may wonder what does it gain
when itâ€™s so full of pain
These are the smile you donâ€™t ignore
Or theyâ€ll be gone forever more
Give the help and love
Donâ€™t give hate or a shove
At the risk of identifying myself to anyone who knows me..
I had a woman come up to me a couple weeks ago and casually,comfortably,awkwardly tell me that she had followed me off a city bus a couple years ago in a snowstorm after exchanging smiles. To clarify, she was beautiful in the way that i like. The whole experience was so wholly unexpected…. thatÂ I honestly questioned whether or not i had imagined it
Kind of sobering.. I found it easier to believe that i had suddenly become delusional enough to imagine this.. than it actually happening.
So she asked me if i remembered her… If i knew that she was there. To my delight, I reacted to the situation in the same way that most people would react to being mugged. Shock, fear and confusion. All stemming from her interest, rather than the method with which she expressed it. The stalking was charming as was her bashful way of being unable to look me in the eye. So naturally I told her no and continued to stare at her blankly until she left.
I’m a charmer.
Though it gets better..
She approached me at her job, so i had an idea of where she’d be for the next week or so. Resolved that i’d hate myself if I let this unexpected gift pass me by..Â I set about running into her again. Not easy in that we both worked the same shift.. but eventually i got there…Â only to find out that she had intended her confession as only that. She was with someone and hadn’t intended it as a come on.. merely a compliment.
So to set the stage.. imagine waiting in the wings, for this person to have a free moment at work. All the while, your brain is fighting against you being there with a litany of abuse. Forcing yourself to approach her and already part of your mind has recognized, processed and interpreted her expression as being less than encouraging. Doubt creeps in but momentum drags you on.. arms clasping, hugging yourself.. the definition of confidence . Words start slipping out, you select randomly from the thousands of phrases you’ve gone over within the past week… whispering barely audibly.. praying that you don’t have to repeat yourself.Â and finally.. finally understanding and rejection.
To actually get to the point where i asked her out was surprising..Â I know i’m kind of broken but having it glaringly made plain is unpleasant.Â On the rare occasion when i date.. it’s because i’m approached and i manage to fight down my instincts.
My human interpreter-friend-therapist said it was a step forward and that i should just let it go but… it haunts me. The whole thing.. I spent a week fighting all my instincts and letting myself hope that a relationship was possible..Â and then probably another week desperately trying to distract myself from my emotional turmoil with physical pain.. (exercise, not actual damage. yay) but most frustrating is that the whole thing was.. interesting. My brain can’t let it go.. I can tell myself it was done as a joke.. done out of pity…Â That my nature discouraged her..Â but some voice keeps asking questions. It’s sad really…
I liked her.. or rather the idea of her.. i liked hope.
Running in circles,
Blood rushing through your veins.
But what is this filth that your breathing?
What is this desecration that your seeing?
Why is your heart beating when you don’t really live?
Why is your blood flowing when you can’t understand your life or what’s left of it?
Living a terminal disease,
Everyday you live your moving closer to dying.
Try and show yourself why…
You don’t know why…
You can’t find the truth.
You don’t know whereÂ your going.
People lose your trust.
But who are you to trust when you can’t even trust yourself?
Your psyche telling you your wrong.
This lie of life,
This truth of death, conniving people…
You turn and see hungry smiles,
Waiting to devour your soul…
Collapse those lungs that breathe…
Dig out those eyes that see…
Cut out that heart that beats…
Release all that blood coursing through your veins,
Waiting to escape…
To be free.
To go anywhere else.
Just like you.
Waiting for a release from this monotone,
This circle you walk…
Longing for freedom…
Your never free.
I’m slipping back into depression. For the first time in months I deliberately took a razor to skin and edged it in. The familiar slice and twinge offered a precious moment free of the past that haunts me. It felt so GOOD. So tremendously good. My wrist is aching for a gash right now, but I can’t. My wrists are clean. Under my clothes isn’t so pure. It’s the only thing that offers freedom from pain, and I can only imagine that deeper cuts and a tub of warm water would offer all the more bliss. I can’t. I can’t kill myself, can’t and won’t. I WANT to, not all the time, but the total desire washes over me in a title wave of emotions I can’t surface from. I’m drowning, slowly. Sinking and watching the bubbles float above me as the air leaves my mouth. As the darkness engulfs me, I can still see my friends breathing. It hurts. No one noticed that my smiles don’t quiet reach my eyes so often. I hardly speak when I’m not around my friends. I can go hours and not utter a word. I just sit and listen, listen for something that will take my mind from what causes me pain. I can’t confront this hovering knife hanging by a rope. Will rope turn to threads?
My stomach always has a dull ache because my head is filled with roaring white noise and the voice of regret.
I can feel the zeal for life slipping away, and all I can do is smile for the audience.
It’s always the same.
The feelings of being lost, worthless; having no purpose in whatever life I’m trying to create. Trying to feel alive again. Begging to feel happy even just content. Why must everything feel so cold and dark? When did my view become like this?
My skin holds my confusion, pain and frustration. Every notch on it reminds me of the lost soul I am. Yet it makes me feel like I can be found. Is that even possible? So many question but they cannot be answered.
I need a release, to feel like I am here; that I have emotions. My smiles never hold true, my laugh always short and the feeling happiness always sliced in half. Then the time comes where I hide, hide from the world that doesn’t notice me. It’s hard to come out of there.
Family & Friends EffectsGeneralI Will SurvivePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
This is the first time I’ve ever publically posted/said that I am in as much pain as I am. I’ve hidden it for years, even when I was a young teen. When I was little I thought everybody had bad days like mine: times when the world looked grey, when even speaking was difficult, when my soul felt sucked from me. I’m too afraid to truly come out and tell anyone around me how I really feel. They’ll all just say “Just put on a smile and look on the bright side” or “It’ll be okay, just buck up”. Can’t anyone see that I can’t see the bright side anymore?! I’ve been putting on smiles for years! I’ve gotten so good at it that I could be about to cry and still fool someone into thinking I’m fine!! Why can’t they understand?! Why can’t anyone SEE it?!
My only respite is sleep. Sleep is the closest I can get to death. That silent, gentle oblivion just as you drift off… when there isn’t sound or light or thought. Nothing. That’s all I want. The nothingness. God, how many times I’ve prayed to sleep forever, to never wake up again. And yet each morning finds me alive… barely. I’m too afraid to take my own life and so I search for things to do it for me. I pray constantly for my heart to simply stop. I beg to just drop and never rise again.
Even when I was little I would imagine death. I never thought it was actually contemplating suicide until recently, but it was. I would fantasize about how everyone would feel if I suddenly wasn’t around anymore. I would dream of what my parents would think if they walked into my room and found their son in a pool of blood. It would make me feel better. Over the years, though, it’s gotten worse. I feel more capable than ever. My heart races when I imagine suicide now. “I could do it! I could do it right now and everything would be ok! I could end it right now and it would all be over!” Oh what a rush that is, the excitement that the end is so near! And then it never comes and I’m lower than before… sometimes I even feel like God is against me in this. When I try to relieve the pain, obstacles appear that only He could put there and I think, “Why? Do you want me feel this way? Is it pleasing to see your son suffer every day of his life?”
Loneliness is a big part of it. I so desperately long for a woman to hold and cherish, someone who could look me in the eyes when I’m smiling my hardest and say, “What’s wrong?” I’ve waited and watched but none have appeared. I beg so dearly for that woman that I weep myself to sleep many nights and the pain drives deeper, that white-hot blade slicing deeper.
Please… someone out there help me… I can’t live with this pain much longer, I just can’t. Maybe one day soon my prayers will be answered at last and I’ll finally find the oblivion I want so much… or maybe God will be even crueler and let me go to my grave with my sorrows.
I feel as if i paint my smiles on.. I don’t think I’ve ever went through so much pain in a month.. You said you felt bad that you did it because it was a week after my great grandmother died? That was my first funeral.. You were there.. Holding me.. Kissing me.. Then bam it all went down hill.. Why? You put me through hell, i fought for us and you did nothing! You told me to shut the fuck up when you knew i was right… Why do I still have to feel this pain? I don’t want it anymore.. Then you’d continue to talk about her when i tried to fix us.. maybe if i would of never found out any of this i couldn’t be hurting so much, You lied & lied.. Hid things from me.. That hurt and you act like it was nothing at all..
hiiya, my name is *insert worst name in the world here*. i am 14 years young. i hate violence and the world. i do not understand why poeple are so mean all the time. im blonde. i have blue eyes. some of my friends call me dimples cause i have really big dimples. i cut. im sorry. i try my best tocover them up. and it works. i couldnt care any less about being popular. im to worried about music. im in love with nevershoutnever and my chemical romance. ilike fallout boy and panic! at the disco to. i have to buy new head phones like every week. im only about 5 foot 2.so im super short. i struggle with ana.(anorexia). im good at faking smiles. im going to summer camp monday. im going into 9th grade. im from arkansas, usa. if your in the area and wanna talk? you should contact me. i think thats it. ohkay im going to end this now… bye.
Local posts, they list your friends
In order of disappearance
Lawn scattered tins feed birds:
The portions baked for absent guests
Mass edition icon
God sent comfort is your salvation
But who grants absolution for sins
That never were committed?
Call me, darling
Tension makes a tangle of each thought,
It becomes inconvenience
Sound never penetrates as
Servile edges break and faint
Dress lengths, assassinations
Fractured family ties and christenings
A thought mistaken for a memory
Clear the dust from smiles in boxes
Cross a patterned floor and recall their voices
There goes the plan
hi i dont really know where to start but i guess i can start by saying im suicidal. ive been depressed for a long time and im still not sure why. i really wish i could have the courage to tell someone but i dont . im too scared they’ll make fun of me or will worry too much and i dont want that. i really know i need help but im just not sure why im so scared to tell. my dad is so understanding that he could help and my mom could help too i just dont know… i also dont know why Â i want to kill myself or why i want to hurt myself why im so sad most of the time. i dont and i want to know. it scares me. and when i cut myself i dont realize im doing it until its done. one moment i pick up the razor the next im setting it down, shaking and crying, bleeding all over my arms and legs. i know what i should do and thats tell someone but like i said im too scared to tell anyone . my thoughts have been really bothering me and i decided i wanted to get them out somewhere so im putting them here. i hope you understand im actually sure you will. i just need the courage to speak up. every time im about to say it my throat closes up and i cant talk anymore my heart starts pounding and i start shaking. i really really really really wanna tell someone and get help but im such a coward that i cant. i feel like crying most of the time and when im not actually crying im covering up my pain and sadness with big smiles and laughing when in reality im dying inside.then i start thinking about saying it andÂ finallyÂ geting the courage and i get scared i know if i wait too long something bad’s going to happen. i guess i just want to be able to walk into a hospital by myself and say ‘im very depressed and i want to kill myself’ and get better. im too scared. this sounds so pathetic doesn’t it? yeah i know i sound like an attention whore or someone who just wants pity and i know theres people with bigger problems but i just feel horrible i just wanna be done with feeling horrible.it really hard being so unhappy. i try being so happy bu that just makes me feel worse at the end of the day. i know it’ll get better though…right? thats what they always say ‘it’ll get better just keep fighting’ but i dont really feel like fighting anymore and when is it gonna get better? its been 3 years and im still waiting. i just want it to get better now. not in another week, month, or year. now. why cant it just get better now? i just want to escape the feeling of wanting to die even if its for a little while. just to see what it feels like again to be purely happy.
I wish I could restart like a video game. Start over new so I could do everything differently. Every time I turn on my iPod every song I listen to has memories attached to them. I don’t want these memories any more.
I just want to forget the past and let go of this pain. This pain is like a rope that won’t hang me, instead it holds me back, stopping me from moving on.
I just want to let go of the past. The memories. The pain they cause.
I just want to move past this.
I don’t care how I do it, weather it’s with a rope around my neck, blade in my hand, or girl on my arm. I just wanna move on. Move past this low point.
It’s almost like there’s this song in the back of my mind that’s on repeat and I try to shut it off but its just not fucking possible. It keeps playing constantly. Constantly reminding me of my past. Of the things I’ve done wrong, and the things I’ve fucked up.
I just want to let it go. Burn it with a flame so no one will ever know what happened. Just erase it. Get it out of my mind.
It screams louder then any music I can play. It’s louder then anything and there’s no way to stop it or block it out or change it. It’s there and always will be till the day I die.
At some point I’m gonna have to move on. Sooner or later. Sooner rather then later.
Everything comes to pass at some point. Stars light then die. The sun rises then sets. Relationships start then end. People live then die. Everything comes to an end at some point. But the question is, how far away is that point?
I feel depressed, every moment of every day. No matter how many smiles I use to cover it up, deep inside there’s just sadness. It crept up on me like the dark upon the day.
It’s almost as if you take a record and scratch it up so bad it sounds horrible. That’s what my life feels like. Feels like every time I try to find a good memory all I find is dark depressing, scratched up memories.
Every time I look at my wrist it’s a constant reminder of how I’ve fucked up time and time again. And all I can think of is how the list just goes on and on..
The knife hasn’t touched my wrist in a while but the pain still ripples through my mind.
I feel like a whiny little ***** who complains about every little problem he comes into. Like no one gives a shit about what I’m going though or have gone through. I feel like I complain to much and people are sick of listening to me so I bottle it up and when it builds up to high I just use a knife to release the pressure.
It’s not just the things I’m going through that makes me depressed though. It’s the memories from the past that you can’t change. You can alter your future and present but your past will always stick by your side like a constant reminder of the shit you’ve done and the shit you’ve fucked up.
I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to hold this burden deep inside me, slowly hurting the ones around me. I want to stop that repeating song in the back of my mind.
I just want to let it all go and get lost in the quietness and emptiness that lies deep inside me.
“I don’t understand why we must do things in this world, why we must have friends and aspirations, hopes and dreams. Wouldn’t it be better to retreat to a faraway corner of the world, where all its noise and complications would be heard no more? Then we could renounce culture and ambitions; we would lose everything and gain nothing; for what is there to be gained from this world? There are people to whom gain is unimportant, who are hopelessly unhappy and lonely. We are so closed to one another! And yet, were we to be totally open to each other, reading into the depths of our souls, how much of our destiny would we see? We are so lonely in life that we must ask ourselves if the loneliness of dying is not a symbol of our human existence. Can there be any consolation at the last moment? This willingness to live and die in society is a mark of great deficiency. It is a thousand times preferable to die somewhere alone and abandoned so that you can die without melodramatic posturing, unseen by anyone. I despise people who on their deathbed master themselves and adopt a pose in order to impress. Tears do not burn except in solitude. Those who ask to be surrounded by friends when they die do so out of fear and inability to live their final moments alone. They want to forget death at the moment of death. They lack infinite heroism. Why don’t they lock their door and suffer those maddening sensations with a lucidity and a fear beyond all limits? We are so isolated from everything! But isn’t everything equally inaccessible to us? The deepest and most organic death is death in solitude, when even light becomes a principle of death. In such moments you will be severed from life, from love, smiles, friends and even from death. And you will ask yourself if there is anything besides the nothingness of the world and your own nothingness.”
–E.M. Cioran, On The Heights of Despair
i wish i could drink to the last drop..just get drunk everynight..to forget everything, to get some sleep..
the hangover..i dont mind, it’s easier to deal than this life.
music and pills are my Â best friends.
No one knows, Â i’ve been pretendingt that i’m happy, Â masking things with smiles.
i wish i could vanish, dissapear …even better if i could die in no time.
death somehow is so peaceful, no yesterday, no tomorrow, just a silent stage and place …with no more pain and tears.
What is life? What is death?
Such words countlessly repeated.
What is after? What was before?
A bird in a cage has no use for such answers.
Brocken wings, muted songs,
For life will exhaust them before long.
What is this wonderful world you speak of?
I look, I search,
I desperatly yearn for a revelation.
But I see grey, I see ugliness,
I see the bars in hoplessness.
When all smiles could faked and all cheers could be fabricated,
Even love will be twisted.
What is remaining? What should I be searching?
Only the self satifaction of daydreaming.
Let me sleep, let me dream, let me wander away from my cage.
I don’t want this heart anymore
What just happened?
Everything was going so well. It’s already seven p.m. and I haven’t felt suicidal all day. For me, that is a hugeÂ accomplishment. I spent the day with real smiles on my face. I felt like I was alive again. I thought “maybe everything will be all right now.”
I wasÂ wrongÂ of course, I’m not all right.
Seven months. Seven fucking months I was cut free.
Not anymore. One cut, just one little slice and a few drops of crimson from that little shard of glass I keep in my room. Suddenly those seven months are gone. Just like that, one moment of weakness.
My promises are broken, the cut free time is gone, and I’m reminded of just how much I love to see me bleed.
I don’t have anything to stop me from cutting now.
Because in the long run, what’s on more cut?
Or two more…
If cutting is a drug,then I’m an addict having a relapse.
What will I type? What message am I oddly eager to send, although once I begin typing I have to force myself to continue. This terrible apathy that I have acquired, where I care not when I see my mother rotting away, a wasted life, why do I feel the need to add one more silly post in the thousands that languish here already. In this curious journey of reaching another state of mind, I find myself hating my apathy, oh the irony. All that we, the youth at least, need is a sense of purpose. And if not that, then we would oh so gladly give up our freedom for someone to just forcibly make us do something, force me to get out of bed before 1 everyday, force me to go swim, to go write, to go do all that I might.Â PleaseÂ someone come and take myÂ independenceÂ away, I have no clue what to do with it other than rot and one day become my mother. Oh, I love her.
You, who is reading this, you will amount to nothing and I who types it, will amount to nothing as well, as shall anyone you have ever laid you eyes upon.
Reckless, that is the sole refuge. Thinking, the sole enemy.
I hate my kind.
I hate their faces, their ignorant smiles. I’ve grown to hate them indisciminatly. What the fuck is wrong with those people? Hollow minds inside puppets made to walk with rotten strings. Let yourself fall into the bliss of mindless simplicity. Almost life a hivemind, brainwashed and seemingly happy with it.
Go with the crowd or fall with the trash.
I do not claim to be a saint nor have my 21 years of existence given me enough experience in the way of life, but is it just me or everything seems so twisted. What happened to sincerity, kindness, generosity? All those concepts are almost marginalised. To this day I still don’t get this way of thinking. Go with the crowd. Lover are more like the latest intelligent phone. You are still a virgin at 16? What a loser! Just because some company whose name became well known says something, everyone magicaly agrees. Friends are chosen on how well they get drunk instead of their loyalty and so on… What the fuck is wrong with this way of thinking? Please tell me I’m not the only one who find this wrong!
The worst is that they are merciless with anyone who does not think like they do.
I’ve been diminished, ridiculed, harassed, bullied, frowned upon, stared at like I was some nasty thing that came out of the sewers and I could go on for a while. It has been like this to the point where I’ve lost trust in practicaly everything. Let’s be honest here, no one wants to grow up without friends. I was forced to put on a mask because I wasn’t pretty to anyone. If the mask wasn’t pretty enough, I changed it. I’ve got countless of them by now. “You’re weird.” I’ve suppresed myself, being told I wasn’t right for them. To this day I have only two friends I’ve known for 8 years who are only begining to discover who I really am, and that’s on the rarest of occasions where my reflexe of suppresing myself fail. To this day I haven’t found anyone I could love out of dire fear of revealing myself to anybody. I have so much mask that I don’t even know who I am anymore. I can’t even tell how I would react to the most unimportant of events. I only have regrets of being born. I hate people. They tag others with the “freack” stamp. It saves them the effort of trying to understand. If the mask isn’t pretty enough for them, don’t bother.
There isn’t a day where I don’t wish a car would ram me into a wall. A quick end for a short life. I admit that I would rather be put into a coma. Even better, live in some anime or any T.V. show I like. I hate this reality and everyday is dead boring. You know what I’ve been loocking forward to?(And I can’t remember when I’ve been really loocking forward to something) Supposedly an economy study agency predicted a worldwide economical breackdown in around 2030. Call me twisted but I dearly hope this happen so this hate I have can be eased a bit.
Then again, I highly doubt it will ease it. Hate is what basicaly kept me alive so long.
okay this has nothing to do with suicide i just need to get this out you don’t have to read if ya don’t want to.
So my bff likes this guy and he’s amazing he’s taller than me (I’m 5’9 in the seventh grade) and he loves all the music I do, he connects with me, and we never get bored of eachother when we talk… it’s clear that i like him too. and I realllllyyy really like him, and I think he likes me (he always stares at me and smiles when I come and talk to him and smiles whenever he sees me….) and I just feel like if emily (my bestie) likes him, I feel like a horrible friend for liking him too, I feel like a backstabbing ***** because i’m his friend… so I just sit back and help her try to snag him while my heart is all but jumping out of my body.
I’m a horrible best friend, I don’t deserve to be her friend, I’m a *****…I should stop talking to him altogether… but…. i…. can’t….
I’m a *****
3 loves lost and im going on
3 timesÂ blown away by hating eye
cos girls thay travel in packs like wolves
and like wolves that snap at all that come nere
and unless some one can magically here
the sownd of braking hearts
and a boy is dumpt not just byu the girl but by the pack
dont get me wong im not puting a wole sex down
cos nice girls travel alone
thay set them selfs aside
fromÂ all nere by
ter for not picking up the ill tids
of hatrid and crultey
gosip and banter
are some ofÂ the simtoms to date
but its all a liy of smies as a nice boy gos biy
so dont fall for the smiles
dont lisoion to the liys
and to all the nice girls out ther
carey on blushing at cind words
carey on being shiy
1 more thing befor i go….
save our fucking lives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!