[141028]

Before I used to love how quiet it was at night. You had time just for yourself. There was no one else awake and you could feel like you were the king of the world. You were on top of everything and nothing could possibly beat you. The night gave you wings.

I still love the night, don't get me wrong.
However nowadays I hate it too.

I hate the silence of everyone else sleeping because it reminds me that I should be sleeping too. That I should be able to sleep too. And here I am tossing and turning in bed. All because I wanted to be foolishly brave and not take the medication tonight. I wanted to prove myself that I can still sleep.
Unfortunately I can't. And that's sad.
I fall for my own lie time after time.

141014

I’m afraid it’s getting worse again. I’m not sure if it’s about the autumn that has finally come. I wonder at what point did the leaves turn yellow and fall onto the ground? The ground’s not black, the streets are not black. They are yellow, orange, red.. they’re like on fire. But the nights are not. The red sunsets have turned into gray and blue and the darkness comes earlier than before. The autumn is dark and cold. I’m afraid it’s creeping inside me as well.

I feel tired again. I sleep 8-9 hours a night and nevertheless when the morning comes I hardly get my eyes open. And let’s not even talk about lectures. Once I finally get back home I’m so tired I could go back to sleep again. This starts reminding me of last autumn. I could sleep 13-16 hours a day. I don’t know what to do anymore, really.. I don’t sleep and I feel tired. I do sleep and I feel tired nevertheless.

As if this wasn’t already exhausting enough, there’s the happy little sound nagging in the back of my head. Most of all I feel incompetent and stupid. Ugly and fat come right after the first two. I know it’s just my head messing around but nevertheless it gets tiring. Why can’t I ever be good enough? Why can’t I be smart and pretty? Or at least smart? Or pretty? I feel like I’m failing as a human for being neither. This all dwells inside of me to the point where I hardly enjoy things that I am supposed to enjoy. That’s tiring as well.

All I want to do is sleep.

I wish I didn’t have to wake up for lecture tomorrow but instead I could just sleep through the whole day. That would be perfect. Unfortunately it’s also impossible.

I don’t know what to do. I am so lost right now.

140928

Today at work I thought how much I just wish it was over so I'd get back home. The same happens during the week at lectures. I'm waiting for the evening and the moment I can go back home. Why? In the end, there's nothing waiting for me at home. I get home and roll around in boredom and misery. 

I think the autumn's getting on me again. 

I feel like at the moment I'm not even living. I'm waiting for evenings in hope for the days to pass. It's not living. It's just trying to struggle through the days and weeks in hope that something will eventually come. 

It's like I'm waiting and I don't even know what for. 

That's silly isn't it?

[ runaway ]

Right now I feel like I'm very lost.
The only thing I know is where I am now, everything else seems unclear.
Who am I? What am I? What is this? Why do I do it? What is this all for? When will I..?
And the list goes on and on.

I don't know what I am, who I am or who I want to be.
This frustrates me a lot.
I am so lost.


_________________________________________
trigger warning - blood

There was that very distinct scent of blood lingering in the air. It hand strong over the building and got even stronger once you stepped in. It was so thick in the air that you felt like you could almost touch it, feel the taste on your tongue if you just closed your eyes. It made you fear for the worst, there was an atmosphere of murder and yet the scent of death was missing. There was only the smell of blood, so thick and strong it was almost intoxicating.

He followed the steps upstairs and by each one, the scent seemed to grow stronger. By the time he was standing on top of the staircase, he could almost imagine the pools of blood in the floor. Except that they weren’t there. It was almost frustrating. Like the scent was teasing him, luring him deeper into the strange mansion coated with dark wood. His patience was wearing thin, the scent making him feel like he could loose his mind. That little bitch.. He kept playing these games and he swore to god (or the devil for that matter) that someday they’d end up being the death of him. However now his eyes slowly scanned the doors and finally picked the one at the end of the corridor.

That one. There was no doubt of it.

As he got closer, the scent of blood seemed to get a new hint to it. Now it was mixing together with another scent. This one was much sweeter, almost too sweet and yet something that thrilled your senses with its vivid forest-like freshness. And as his hand pressed down the handle of the door, he wasn’t sure what to expect anymore.

The figure in the bathtub looked like an ancient goddess even in the midst of the grotesque scene scattered around him. His pale skin seemed even more ivory as it contrasted against the blood filling the white tub. His slender figure had that certain grace as he tilted his head back and ran his hand through the black hair that flowed down his back.

“Care to join me for a bath?”

It was a sweet purr in the air thickened with the scent of blood that coloured the demon’s lips red as they curled up into a smile.

[ sickness ]

Being sick sucks.
What sucks even more is being sick and an adult at the same time.

It's been somewhere around 5 years since I was sick. It's hard to even start trying to explain how anxious being sick makes me. There is just something in it that makes me absolutely freeze in fear and during these... 4 days that I've been sick, I've cried more times than I dare to admit. Being sick frightens me. I can admit it, plainly and bluntly. I hate the feeling of lying in my bed and having my body ache a bit here and there. I hate the feeling the medicines cause in my head after I take them. I hate how restless my sleep gets and how vivid and colourful my dreams are. They are too colourful and full of shapes and places that make me want to run. I don't even know why I am running. But it's because of those shapes. The shapes are scary. I don't know exactly why but I know that they are. This feeling doesn't leave me even after I wake up.

It may all sound silly to you. It probably really does. But it still scares me.

What do I mean then by being an adult and being sick? And why does that suck even more?
It sucks because when you lie in your bed by yourself, all alone, feeling sick, it makes you downright miserable. Sweating in the dizzy hallucinations that the medicines cause feels at least three million times worse when you're alone.
To be honest, I wish I was at my parent's place right now.
I wish I was somewhere where someone could fondle my hair when I start crying and tell me that there's no reason to cry because this will pass. Because at the moment I don't feel like it will. I feel alone and isolated from the rest of the world. I feel useless and anxious and abandoned. I am trapped in my own bed, in my own head and there's no way out. It's a sad place to be in.

It feels really lonely.

140725

I feel like I can't write anymore. I want to but I can't. I try and I try and I try.

But it doesn't come out right. I stumble in my words and they don't seem to fit in their place. The sentences seem awkward and I the order of words seems like a mystery to me. They won't work with me, no matter how hard I try. The frustration inside of me just grows. I want to write so badly. But there's nothing that would feel right. I come up with a sentence. Another. Write a ten more and yet they don't seem connected. 

In the end I just close the document, sigh quietly and hope that tomorrow it would be better.

It never is.

____________________________________

”You aren’t anything. Did you hear me? You’re nothing! Nothing!”

The memory echoed through his mind, hurt deep inside in places you’d think that pain was impossibility in. But it hurt. The pain radiated through his mind, into his veins and to his body. It consumed him alive, ate away everything else until there was nothing but hurt left. Chest was the worst. His hands pressed against it, fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt as if trying to pull away the pressuring feeling that made it hard to breathe. Where his heart was supposed to be was a black hole, all lost into its darkness.

It felt like his body was slowly crumbling into pieces. Falling apart. 

He didn’t have the power to hold it together anymore. 

His body felt heavy. It was almost like he was falling. Downwards, downwards, always just downwards. Pain was cast aside, slowly the numbness filled every cell of his body and nothing mattered anymore. All was dark, he couldn’t see and he just kept falling.

His world had burnt to ashes so long ago, maybe it was time for him to accompany it. 

Maybe this was planned all along.

140723

It's almost funny. 

You'd think little things don't matter. But they do. They actually matter an awful lot. And it makes me a bit sad to know just how little it would take to make that effort. 

It feels sad to be drowning when you're surrounded by people.

Reaching your hand out. Reaching, reaching. But it's too far away. 

Do you need to scream to be saved?

But what if there's no voice left to shout with?

Will they just let you drown?