Bare

All Broken up and Dancing

I just finished all broken up and dancing. I feel like i'm breaking up again. I will send my copy to john. I want it back. Its true, its not a book you can leave idle on the shelf when it has so many lives to touch.

Finishing leaves behind the lingering emptiness in my mouth. I miss John, I miss Aff, and mostly i miss how the way things used to be. I've tried, and i wonder, if i'll ever find the courage to live like I used to. I miss the dream, that died, i feel like crying like a baby, is that so wrong.

After reading it, I realise I still have a long way to go. I'm not fixed until I can feel pain, not the worthless I cut therefore I am kind of pain, but the rather the more profound I dare to put my heart on the line for you kind of pain, the one where theres no control, no brain telling the hand where to stop the blade, the kind that only ends when it has run its course, and theres nothing left to hurt for. I'm not half the person I decided to be. I'll finish this later, going for drinks now, and i think writing will be better when I'm high, floating, dancing.

Cut for alcohol.
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Its 6 the next day, I crashed last night. Came home, closed my eyes, and let the world fade into nothingness around me. I figured I should have a post script for after every session. I always walk away feeling that theres something left to say, something more to do. Like every resolution still needs re-thinking. Every action needs some sort of gratification, some way where i can say thank you, i appreciated that.

I met a Mormon on the train on the way home. I think its God who's missing in my life. Some kind of stimuli. I need to argue, to be more fixed in what I believe in. Religion has always been that. Maybe I can convert a few religious fanatics into thinking for themselves.

This would be my second last post, its time i stopped the show. Time to heal, time to try and make things the way its meant to be. I feel resolute, I will earn the death I deserve. It will be dignified, and as your friend I hope to make the eulogy easy, some kind of ironic parting gift.

Of all the characters in the book, I liked Brenda the most. She resembled of me the most. The book ended for me when she died, it was bittersweet she finally got the release that she wanted, but she could have had so much more. I think she died because she knew there was no turning back. She could have tried again but it would never work. What else can you do, having spent the sum of your life, searching out this one person, having found that person, and being rejected. How can you live in the pretense that your life still has value and meaning.

Maybe she should have waited, maybe she should have listened when people told her there will be others. But I believe she knew, if you keep waiting for others, it cheapens the whole thing, it will be less perfect, because for every other that you wait for, you accept the reality that there could be a thousand or million others. This begins the idea that there is no love just for you, and ends with the idea that you are not unique, you are not special and you are not deserving. It ends with a valuation on your life. That there is no plan, there is no greater good, there is no eternity. It ends with life being the sum of its time, the here and the now, the way that it is, and will always be. I still need to choose, because my life as it is has a value, and as time goes on, it depreciates, and I don't want to die when I'm worthless.

Wearing your heart on your sleeve. (blanked because its gibberish)

Is not a good idea. In fact its a very bad idea. Its like standing beneath a falling tree in an attempt to catch it. Its for people who don't mind endless pain, either don't mind or just don't care. I don't think I'm a masochist, neither do I think I'm some kind of torch bearer for the greater good, or the truth or other ideals like that. Maybe once, when I was younger. People loved me for it once, now, no one can see beyond this empty shell. Theres this reason, when two people who love each other go their separate ways. They say, I'm sorry, I love you, but I cannot support the person you aspire to be, I cannot make you happy, and you do not deserve someone like me, so goodbye. And they leave, so seemingly without regret, so seemingly unscathed, untouched, un anything by you, as though you didn't exist. Eventually they move on, their routines change, they become different. And you call, you try to find the person who used to believe in you. You call again, you try to find some part of the new them you can love. You lie, and try to make sense of it all, try to rationalize that everything is still the same when the world has gone unbearable wrong. Its harder to move when you have your heart on your sleeve, because we move in time with the beating of our heart. You can't pretend that someone else doesn't know how you feel, because it shows, it bleeds down your arm, and droplets form on the tips of your fingers. The same fingers that used to feel, to comfort, to hold, now rendered ineffective. It doesn't make much sense does it, fragments of truth we sacrifice to the altar of lies.

You swore this wouldn't happen

Is one of my favourite lines in the song. That line never fails to prick the skin on the back of my neck. It never fails to stab a knife right through the hole in my heart. It never fails to hurt. Love is about knowing, the best and worst. The greatness and shortcomings. Being human is about being able to make a choice. Its about transcending the way we are conditioned to think. Its about being able to do the impossible. To surpass convention, to imagine, and make our wildest imaginations come true. To dare to dream, and live our dreams. Unafraid, undaunted, and unloved.

Here on the altar of truth I'll sacrifice whats good for you

Because we hurt the ones we love. The ones who love us. The ones who make our lives worthwhile. We tell the crafty lies, and come out smelling like roses after starting a bloodbath. Whenever I think of sacrifice on an altar, its always Aslan, on the cold stone table, having a stone knife cut out his heart. Its the only sacrifice, the loss of ones heart. When we lose a limb, or an eye life goes on. When we lose the heart to do anything, to live to believe, to take steps forward, life still goes on, but we don't. We stop, we rot, we attempt to self destruct like some kind of robot we were brought up to believe we were. We scream like children who don't know any better, looking for some way to satisfy our needs, our wants. We forget all that we have transcended, we forget to make our lives and the lives of others a better place. We become selfish cold and bitter. Because this is better for us, to be ice cold, to be defeated, and to have our dreams robbed from us. Its better to feel numb than to feel pain. Its better to live half a life than an existence without the life we once deemed whole.

It's the coup de grace. I believe in euthanasia, I've however never found a cause for it. I acknowledge that I am not god, and I will never know whats best for you, or even me for that matter. I like the finality of death, there is no second chance, its the only time i believe the term too late applies.

When you're shining around the world, its hard to imagine that you're thinking of me

I miss you, everyone everywhere. Sometimes I think, when you think about someone, they will think of you as well. And you're connected to them, you love them, and they love you. You're not alone, you're part of a whole, and you're more than you think you are. It is love, because i still do love you, its not about chemicals, its not about my body close to yours, its not about the way you looked, its not about the way you smelt, or stroked my hair, its not about the soft words and the comfort I found in you. Its about the way our minds met, its about the way we did the impossible, its the way that for once in my life, I had no doubt that i could be happy.

I believe that loving somebody is believing in them. It is knowing without a doubt that they will succeed in whatever they do. It is wishing the best for them, and helping them have that. It is sacrifice. It is giving up everything just so they can be. It is trust, knowing they will never take advantage of the things you are willing to do for them. It is humility. To give and expect nothing in return. It is being happy, after you have let them go, after you have watched them succeed, you turn to look at them from the distance, and look at them with nothing but pride in your eyes. When you can smile and be happy for them, even though you're not the one who can stand next to them, hold their hand, and make her happy.

The Case of Mistaken Identity (Ungrateful son of a bitch I am)

Well its nobody's fault really. Nobody but mine. You see, I thought you were somebody else. I let you into my life, because, well, I thought you were my friend. I made an effort to be happy around you. I made an effort to make you comfortable around me. I smiled like the willful child I want to be, and we shared jokes.

I never knew very much about you, or your life. I acted on the good faith that letting you get to know me was a first step into a meaningful friendship. Somehow, I'm looking at how the strings unravel. Somehow I'm looking at the back end of a lousy deal. I sold myself for nothing again, I don't think I'll ever belong, I don't think this life will ever make sense.

So here I am, panicked, hurt, and tossed aside again. Whats new, what ever is. Sometimes the look of surprise on my face is just there out of habit, I'm seldom surprised anymore. How many people have I actually asked to read my blog, definitely less than 10. I wonder how long it'll take before I stop trying, to find something meaningful in this existence.

I'm not too good with social norms, I can never tell how much I mean to a person. My search for something more, something better, or something worthwhile usually ends like this. Alone, with a tinge of hurt, mixed with the bemused feeling of how things could have gone better, and the practical side me will say, they wont get better, because I'm unwilling to change the way I do things.

What a long difficult to read sentence, hope it didn't bother you. I honestly should stop caring when its blatantly obvious my goodwill will not be reciprocated. You know it, I know it. But what stops me is the hope that one day you will appreciate the good that I've done in your life. But then again, who am I kidding, I don't even appreciate the things that I have, and I have them in abundance.

Picture Pt.4

Picture Pt.3

Picture Pt.2

Pictures

For everything that has happened

Maybe it wasn't the mood. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was the time. Whatever it was, here am i again. Every time i come back to this square its different. Same square, different me. It probably doesn't matter how many steps forward or backwards that i take. It matters that I'm moving. That I dare to move, that I dare to try out something new. That I'm hot keeping myself holed up.

Yes, it makes a difference, those of you who were there, who watched, and shook your heads, who poured me glass after glass, who stood by even when i didn't. You make a difference. I don't expect anything, not anymore, not after what you've been through with me. I'm grateful to you, and i can wish you happiness even when your happiness is not in my best interests. I have learned enough to let you go, to do the things that need to be done. And you know you will always find me here, waiting, should you need a place to rest your hardening heart.

We weren't always these people, yet somehow i should forget. Forget the happiness that I've ever had. Everyday is a new day, and as time brings us farther down, we find our happiness and sadness in fewer and fewer places. We learn to live with less, and learn to choose more shrewdly. We are only young once, only a minor once, only allowed to break most laws once. And get away with a slap on the wrist, a stern warning, or a life threatening beating. I'm glad i was able to make these life defining mistakes with you.

Of all of us, I feel like i'm the biggest under achiever of them all. My vested interests in so many things faded into nothing as i gave up all my hopes and dreams one night in a pub not too long ago. My father would call me weak, he would say i'm not enough of a fighter. I wouldn't say he was wrong, because i know one time in my life when I should have stayed and fought, but I couldn't find it in myself to. We life to fight another day, and i've resolved to not making that mistake again.

This is starting to sound like a suicide note, however its all a lump of silent introspection. I've been looking at myself for the longest time, trying to find something i'm good at. I don't find myself to be particularly extraordinary. I guess uniqueness and a sense of excellence is not something so easily quantifiable. I see all of you, with some tinge of jealousy bound for the great things you were all meant for, be it pursuits of wealth, intellect, or social standing.

I miss you all, because you fill up my life. And I dare to say this to you, because I know and trust the person you are, and I know neither of us of afraid of the truth. This is what i believe differentiates and defines us. And this is what empowers a sense of value in ourselves. And this is why we are willing to give the most impossible most daunting things a chance.

I'm proud of you, and i hope one day i can make you proud of me.

From here, you can almost see the Sea

Its a reply of sorts. The other thing it is is a declaration and affirmation of what i want. In the wise words of stars, i haven't realized it but I've stopped looking back. I'm looking forward to something.

I will do and carry on no matter how wrong things go. I know my worth and I don't need you to believe in me for me to believe in me. I am better than that. I'm actually daringly content for now. With a twist of suicidal somethings, but i can ignore.

We were talking about guilty pleasures the other day. Some people had Blink 182 on their wall of shame. I thought I didn't have any, but I Do! Power Metal!!! Extremely guilty pleasures. You know its your guilty pleasure when you have to defend it.

I liked History Boys because it changed my perspective on a lot of things. I like School for Scoundrels because i believe that when you actually do learn something there is no consolation for it, there is no congrats big enough to fill up that gaping hole where part of your nobility used to be. Yes, Nobility is an euphemism.

And ours is a road
That is strewn with goodbyes
But as it unfolds
As it all unwinds
Remember your soul is the one thing
You cant compromise

I'm going to shine.

I saw this a bit later so just adding on. I will panic in the evening underneath the crashing moon. So fall in love while you can still hold your head up high, and pretend that you're alive again. It's friends that leave you here in the end, so hold your head up high and pretend that you're alive. From Pretend you're alive by Lovedrug