| Noose... |
So here I am, in this broken shell I call my body, ugly, twisted, bruised...
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I really am fucked up inside.
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I can say nobody deserves anything, switch that up a bit, and say everybody deserves nothing, eventually reaching the conclusion that everybody deserves me. I am nothing to everyone and everything to myself. Everything ugly, that is.
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And that is who I am right now. I am ugly. I don't like who I am. I was reading some bullshit off of webmd.com and it told me I am fucked up in the head. They said I am crazy and I need help.
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You think I don't already know that? You think I don't know I have problems? You think I don't know I need help?
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How could she love someone like me?
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How could I let her?
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Nothing is free. I am nothing. I am free. All you have to do is push your fingers in and pick and grab at the parts you want. I am infinite because I am nothing. There is no end of nothing. You can't take all of nothing. You can't have none of nothing either.
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I am a plague to you.
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I want to crawl inside your skin and wear you from the inside. I want to be inside your head and feel what you feel, taste what you taste.
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I want to be you.
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I want to be all of you.
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I want to see like the third person into myself. I want to be able to look at me like everyone else does. I want to see what I am to you.
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I never want to be that way again.
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I have a secret.
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A secret it should remain.
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Secret in 3, 2, 1...
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I cried last night.
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If you tell anyone my secret, I will kill you myself.
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I don't want anyone to know I cried. I haven't fucking cried like that ever in my whole fucking life. Nothing matters that much to me. Apparently this detachment from reality and this innate apathy to everything in my life are sure signs of schizophrenia. If that is true, we are all fucking crazy.
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I am crazy, you know.
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The doctor told me I needed help.
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I told him to keep his opinion to himself.
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He wanted me to eat pills for the rest of my life.
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I told him he could forcibly insert them into his juriatric anus.
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I left.
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I don't need a professional to tell me I am crazy.
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I don't want to hear how fucked up I am.
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I want to hear how to fix it.
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I want to hear how to make it go away.
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I drank last night. Smoked a lot of bud too.
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I vomited, I cried, I fell, I bled, I was shit.
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I was fucking shit.
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And I realized something. I realized that I have been that way all along. I realized that who I was last night has always been inside of me. I am a secret in myself, and last night I told that secret to everyone around me. They didn't ask to hear it, but I fistfucked it into their being just by entering their space. I have a presence, an aura. I am influential before I say a word. I was shit, I am shit, and shit I will remain.
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I bit myself. I bit the fuck out of myself. I bit until I could taste my own blood. I liked the taste. I didn't want to stop. I wasn't going to. Not until they made me stop...
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I had a dream last night...
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I was walking up a hill. Sand, dirt, dry...
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I got to the top of the hill, and I saw a dead ass. The rope that had been tied around his neck was now around mine. I didn't notice the body hung from the tree. I didn't want to.
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I never liked Judas anyway.
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But I had it now. I had the rope. I should have been in that tree. It should have been me swinging up there. And I knew it. Judas, the great traitor, and I had his fucking rope.
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I wanted to die...
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I still think about it.
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Suicide is not the answer.
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It isn't THE answer, but it is still an answer. For some...
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If you want to do it, do it. I won't feel bad. If you really want to die that badly, then go right fucking ahead and do it.
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I don't want to.
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I won't mind watching someone else do it though.
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Apathy.
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Dissociation.
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A schizm from my own reality.
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My life is my religion and I don't want to let it go.
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Not yet...