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Published: 2009-11-04 23:22:36 +0000 UTC; Views: 6760; Favourites: 247; Downloads: 67
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Description
being scared isn't at all like being nervous. it is opening the refrigerator door at three am, closing it. falling asleep and not realising you have woken up. wanting to disappear completely, and realise you could probably do it if you tried hard enough; making yourself stuck in your own mind. it is realising you could tell all your secrets to every soul in the world, and in the end it is still only you, sitting in that room and waiting. alone.everything becomes insignificant. any feelings you may have felt before. you don't even remember anymore why you were sprawled on the kitchen floor that night, drunk and crying. mumbling something about capsicum-monsters and sitting in the middle of the road and a car is coming. you probably haven't eaten for days, but in your mind it is still that moment and it keeps playing like a scratched cd.
you stop regretting that time you contemplated not braking, your attention slipping to the cracking red nail polish on your fingers.
it is like being scared but not at all. you feel like an elephant in a room. big and awkward, fumbling with the curtains. you try to make conversation but everything you say comes out backwards; then they look at you and you can only manage to comment on how you burnt the pizza because you forgot you put it in the oven.
that night there is a black out, and you feel your way around the house. feet sliding on the ground until you find the first step, hands caressing corners as if they are questions and someone is yelling at you to work it all out and then throw it away. it is like all of a sudden you realise what everything is for. you can recite the names of your bones, all two hundred & six of them - clavicle, carpal, spine, ribcage; and then you know nothing at all. you run through fields and are smiling, and then you are standing there and you feel like a deer who stopped just to see the headlights close up.
and that's all you do. one moment you are and the next you are not. you are lost in the galaxy of your mind, where shooting stars loop your thoughts in circles. you are standing there and you can feel each and every single breath enter your lungs and then pushed out, your blood beating through your skin and the way your spine is contorting forward, hunching like a flower ready to kiss the earth. you are standing there and you are not. you are and you're not.
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Comments: 69
You are truly one of the most fascinating and emotionally gut wrenching writers I've read ever..
Please keep writing and I'll keep reading. I very very much enjoy your pieces.
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thank you, you don't know how much that means to me. i've really been trying to start writing again.. maybe that's the problem? i just need a pile of post it notes a black pen running out of ink and some sleepless nights.
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how is it that you can explain my thoughts so much better than I?
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I've actually come to writing as a way to express things myself, miss
Well, we havent spoken for a while and this comment may even come as a shock to you, lol. But hey, lets take it as a reminder, that i'm still here. So talk to me.
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yes, we haven't talked in a while again. maybe we should give us a call?
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it makes sense, in more ways than one
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amazingly well done. and i know the feeling *hug*
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i read the first paragraph and faved this!
because this is so fucking brilliant.
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its like you took every feeling ive held lately and turned it to literature. you are so beautiful.
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I've always been a fan of your literature. Its so abstract. So beautiful.
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it's so great to read! And I know exactly what you mean, it's just like you wrote it...
great text anyway!
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Breathing-takingly beautiful. I wish you posted more of your writing on here, you're so very very talented
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What do we were before we be? Maybe Iβm doing a wrong interpretation of this... but I have to tell you: Even if we left our bodies lying on the floor, lost in the pain; or even if we dance in the yard, on a beautiful sunset: we are being what we want to be. We often donβt decide the course of our lives, itβs true, but we decide what to feel about it; what to believe.
Reality is a feint of our conscience, is what we see about the world we are stand; we control that feint, we must.
Is not good to be afraid, because our fears gives the power to control our reality to that thing we dislike, our fears makes it stronger, and then, it turns our world into a hell.
We write the book of our days at every second, we are the protagonist and the author of our own fiction. Donβt let the ink of a word, no matter how lurid it be, smear the rest of your pages.
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thank you so much for that comment. it was wonderful!
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This is amazing. Sometimes frank writing is so much better than babbling on poetically for hours.
It does pass. Half of the pain is thinking, knowing that it won't.
Whatever it is for you, I hope it passes soon.
Thank you so much for writing this.
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thank you for that (:
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i think i know what this text is about. i think that sometimes i'm like that elephant. the worst part is that after a while, after a good while you get used to it, to not being and being at the same time, and though it's still hurting like hell in the back of your mind, you are unable to do anything about it and you just deny it in every possible way when you're not feeling it. but it always gets you in the end.
i feel like an immortal prey, and there is an immortal beast always following me and smiling. the problem is that i am the beast, and i do it to myself, i do.
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Fantastic. Gorgeous.
And I totally get it (like, apparently, everyone who has read it, which just shows how well you've captured the emotion). And somehow, reading it or writing it makes it almost okay for that tiny moment.
Love it.
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This is what I tried to tell them, I swear I swear I swear...
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Iloveit. that's all that I can say. it's not enough.
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Totally true... You stare at life that goes by all around you and there's nothing you can actually do.. Just... Keep staring...
Really great!
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What you are feeling is a transformation. Being able to feel more what you felt the day before, see more what your eyes haven't seen before, contemplate more on things subtle, isn't it? The feeling is overwhelming but it is impeccable. If this is what you are feeling then, don't run from it, take it in.
The pupal stage awaits your arrival.
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The feeling is overwhelming but it is impeccable. i think that sums it up perfectly. thank you, i am trying.
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Your most welcome.
I certainly have been there and many others. You just have to find a way to materialize those feelings.
My spirit is with you.
Best of luck.
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I know the feeling...kind of like a cut on the roof of your mouth that just won't heal.a scratch at the back of your throat. A trainwreck.A five car pile up with no survivors.
I wish i could take your fears i'll go through th pain for you. Any day.
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thank you, you are wonderful. but i don't think i'd let anyone do that, it wouldn't be fair to them.
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I've been through worse.
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Now I feel bad for not taking you too seriously. Hugs.
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it is like being scared but not at all. you feel like an elephant in a room. big and awkward, fumbling with the curtains. you try to make conversation but everything you say comes out backwards; then they look at you and you can only manage to comment on how you burnt the pizza because you forgot you put it in the oven.
This spoke to me so hard.
It is probably different from the vision you were trying to get through, but I thought you would find it flattering despite that. I do think I kind of see what you were driving at.
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what vision did you get from it?
and thank you.
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I was thinking about love and how people can become depressed and zombie like after they lose that love. Whether that person leaves or dies.
Your welcome.
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And this is why I tire so quickly of my own self, this is the feeling that drives hands into fists until ribbons and ribbons of imperfect skin falltothefloor, this is. this is. this.
I have no words to describe how this makes me feel. Not even close. Because I've been there. And back, andthereandbackagain. (Everyone is afraid of something, to some degree, even if they can't put a name to it or the crushing emptiness it induces.)
But.
Cheesy and pretentious as it may sound, there is always hope. There is always an escape.
It will be okay. Please remember that.
Please?
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the ribbons sentence was wonderful, and so unfortunately true. thank you for that, i know there is always a light at the end somewhere, the problem is just believing it.
i suppose it is nice to be able to feel things though? like, to the very core of it.
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this made me cry too.
you put my feelings into words.
i thought that was impossible.
i love this. i love you for writing this.
thank you.
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my pleasure
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