It's easy to see

Why do I suddenly feel like every word I say,
every smile I make,
everything,
is all complete bullshit lying and,
I shouldn't even
have the chance
to share that, because,
no one needs more bullshit.

No one needs me.

---

simply put, that hurt.

Lovely day.

It's one of those days where I just really want to curl up in a corner, hugging my knees. And I WANT to cry, let tears wash away everything else. But I haven't cried -and I mean really cried- in about four months. Or...wait. No. It's been longer than that.
But.
The anthem for today is Between the Bars by Elliott Smith. Oh, so quiet, so sad.
So comforting, because I feel like it fits. And I love when things fit.

Actually.
The last time I remember crying -a really good, nice, satisfying cry- was two years ago, after my best friend moved away. I remember her calling, telling me she left a day early, so I wouldn't be able to see her that day.
I wouldn't be able to say goodbye, because she was already
gone.
And that hurt. That hurt so much, I went home, and cried for five hours straight.
Hard, ugly sobs, that eventually subsided into these small, pathetic huffs with a wet face.

No, I wasn't happy then, but I'm not any happier now.

Mrs.Teacher decided she'd bombard me in my last period of the day and make me take a test that went past the end-of-school bell. And of course, she was angry with me for not bringing in homework/showing up to class/doing ANYTHING. And of course, also, she decided she'd rant to me about why I'm going to fail. About how I'm ruining my future, and she can't help me if I don't let her.
All this, all these words...
Fuck her and her stupid words and her stupid, stupid, pointless help.


These words hurt.
All words are starting to hurt.

But.
My friend managed to make me play badminton in gym today. Somehow, she managed to make me play it. And it was fun. And I enjoyed that.
But then...

Then I went home, and I realized Mrs.Teacher is right.

I am going to fail life. I am going to die early, no money, no food, no shelter. I am going to be upset, and depressed, and in a terrible mind-state.

Hey, but what is this?


And I realized, that... my friends all left me awhile ago.
They left. I lost them. My sister left, I lost her. My mother, my father, my brother...left. Everyone's gone, but who really mattered?

My best-friend knew me.
She really knew me. And she didn't care when I was ugly, when I coughed, when I choked. She didn't care when I fell, or if I needed help back up. She didn't spend every moment making me feel guilty as shit.
She cared for me...
Cares, for me. She cares, but she's gone too.

I just want to know who I have left.
Who I can still count on.

Not. Even. Myself. 

Nonsense

That's a common misunderstanding, my friend. 

I'm not crazy, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm not depressed. I don't cut, I eat, no puking involved. I don't hate myself, I enjoy life, I have goals, plans, things I want to accomplish. I'm going places. 

I'm fine.

Yes, a common misunderstanding to believe I'm upset. 

But what if I was?

The monster mash...

Silly silly twisty-tied-up words on their little posts -- hanging to death slowly.
Their wings get taped back, tacked to the records and spin-spin-spinning in circles...oh-so-disco.

Flash:


Wings start falling off, triangles tipping, turning, cracking. 
People dance to the broken music; robotic movements that twick-twack g-g-go in certain patterns. 


Flash:


No one notices the faerie lights go out, so everything's in complete darkness. The wings catch no light; they're on the floor by now, being trampled by the robotic movements the dancers call day-to-day activities. 


Flash:


This is the default music. 
The spinning creatures who died. Who's dying? Certain some-ones who ..who what?


Little faerie lights break; the tiny pieces of glass sliding into people's feet as they STOMP-STOMP-STOMP to the twizzling-fizzled-out music. 


Flash:


Little-little's scream startles everyone. How dare she interrupt their party! 
Her feet track bloody writing everywhere, telling a story far too cryptic for anyone to understand. 


Problem: she can't stop screaming.
Solution: shut up.
Problem: not that easy.
Solution: aw fuck. 


Grand-oldy people tap their heads side-to-side, clicking their tongues at the uncontrolled mess.
"Silly," they agree.

But through all this, did anyone watch the butterfly's wings fall to the floor, in a state of complete silence, straight through the music and stomps?
Through all this, did anyone see how the light caught the wing, singeing a small rainbow into the floorboard cracks for a complete semi-second?

I watched, because I was not dancing.
I noticed, because I was not looking.

I was not looking, yet I saw.
I see.

And everyone else?

Dry your eyes, mate.

Oh, oops.
I forgot I existed.

Please understand.

"We never meant to stay here..."
"Is it your intention to break my heart?"
"We were here for the gold, here for the go..."
"You're so distant."
"We got stuck here for the winter."
Sometimes it's not exactly our intentions, but whatever happens.


And you know, things happen. Hearts grow weaker, weaker.

"We got stuck here for the winter
Blinded by golden dollar signs
We built some simple structures
Temporary, not permanent
But each year we dug much deeper
And each year things got more serious
Each year our hearts grew weaker"




But. 
Things. 
Happen. 


So give it up, already. 
You know what this is. 
You know what's happening. 


And things do happen. 

You know exactly what I mean by this

Fine.

Fuck you, then.

Dc.

You say that made you shiver, but I couldn't even feel it.

What was there, anyway, that was so great?

It's just words. Just my silly, silly words...

Blinded. By. The. Light. Running, in the night...

What.

How.

Why.

What are we doing. How did we get here. Why are we still Here?

I hate this place.

I've said before, it's nowhere. It's nowhere, nonsense, silly. It's lost.

But I'm still here.

Still Here.

Should I be happy? Smile, get away?

Should I be faking something?

Anything.

Everything?

Lateral.

Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.

From Skins

She said I sounded like Cassie.

I knew it.

Everything is forgiven, forgotten.

She cares.

Words, obstructions, lying, fucks'sake.

Words.

Everyday, words.

Answers, greetings, questions, all strung together to form opinions and obstructions.

Obstructions, because words aren't enough.

Because lies aren't enough.

But hey, that's fine.

Lying is fine, if you have a good reason.

But why am I lying?

For your sake? For mine?

Tell me why I'm lying, so it stops hurting so much.

Tell me, clear as day, with your words,

and I'll

use

mine.

Notenoughtime,stopwastingaway

Might as well post this now, in case I don't get the chance later...

"I'm starting to hate everything you do -or don't do- because I can't hate anything you've done."

Expanding

'5 wanderers were travelling together, looking for somewhere to live'. They settle in a dark cave, each of them content because the shadows hide their deepest darkest secrets. Together, they hunt, they play. They live with and support each other; like family. No lying.

But suddenly more wanderers stumble in, lost in modern-day socirty. They are easily welcomed into the makeshift family, and all their faults are accepted.

Lifeisgoodlifeisfine.

And then... the arguments start. "Oh, well you're not really this, you haven't really done that; you're LYING!"

Not to blame anyone, but no one fought before more wanderers joined. Sh, but that's a secret, too.

But then people start getting hurt; they start hurting themselves, because of it. And then.all.hell.breaks lose.

"Liar Liar Pants on Fire Burning on your FUCKED UP wire!" and "Roses are red, Violets are blue, I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE! and I don't believe you."

Things start to get personal and people start digging up flaws and secrets from the dark cavern shadows. Everything, The whole cave itself, is unstable.

Suddenly, walls start caving in. Rubble corrupts the air and makes it hard to breathing. Everyone's complaining, but they keep prodding and digging. And

things

fall

apart.

And people

fall

together.

And nothing makes sense anymore, because the sun's not shining. The clouds of shit block it out. And then someone digs in the wrong shadow, and a volcano erupts; one that'll keep on spitting out haze for weeks.

So certain wanderers leave home and family, only to fend for themselves, somewhere distand and cold. But that was their choice.

They left, so they are forgotten. And they ATTEMPT to go home and be happy again... but they've been replaced and forgotten. Original wanderer or not, they're barely tolerated, if anything. Ignore and forgotten.

So they leave again, shamed. Hating themselves.

Being hated.

They leave, keep wandering, alone. They're just going further and further out. They're getting themselves

lost.

Then they find themselves alone, disoriented, exhausted. Their feet hurt from walking. Their lungs, from breathing. So they sit down and look around.

Everything hurts; they can't move anymore. Can't keep going. Sure, it's dark (but it's not) and cold, and they're starving...being alone. But they can't move.

"Here," they think.

"Here is nowhere, and I'm stuck."

Today I am me.

Today I am....

-Changing

-Talking

-Breathing

-Living

-Smiling

-Caring

-Fighting

-Happy

Yesterday I was....

-Upset

-Angry

-Indifferent

-Choking

-Unhappy

Today, I am me.

But yesterday I was me too.

I don't know who I am, but I'm happy.

...for now.