Yeah you were right. We shouldn’t have done it. All I’m left with is a sick taste in my mouth. I’m sorry.
"Why are you closing your eyes?" Because when I opened my eyes I wanted to see him instead.
I asked myself today what I actually wanted to do with my life. What did I want for the world? The thing that came back to me was the thing that I have been telling myself since… I started thinking about changing the world, that was to be awesome and rich so I can start making a difference with my money (Perhaps this thought was implanted in my mind cause my parents didn’t think really highly of taking design in school, so I figured I’d earn enough money to support and I’ll have the last laugh). But then was my intention to make money or to change the world? As a designer, should I be thinking about the greater good? Or did I want to just be a self marketing designer whom people come to cause they want to buy more stuff from me? It was kind of like the rivalry between European and American designers - self-philosophy driven or mass production.
What should I do? What can I do? What did I want? What do I want?
Ok my brain is tired. Too much pondering for tonight.
I could suddenly see everything. It was like viewing myself through a camera which kept zooming out. Nothing was hidden from sight. I saw every possibility, every path I could take, and every result. Every cause, and effect. I wondered, was this what God could see? If I saw this for all eternity, I would probably go insane. No wonder He has to sit down on a throne.
Today didn’t feel like a day. It was a space in time which time itself forgot. I took a break from life and sat in this space for a while. It’s serene yet depressing. I feel invincible yet completely useless. I hate it. I wanna go back now.
Plug me back into time.
Emptier than ever. Emptier than thou. Empty. Soggy bodies pressing against each other to find comfort and refuge. Trying to fit into each other like puzzle pieces. I didn’t get the memo about what the picture is on the puzzle box.
I had a bad feeling walking there today. It was worse than before. I numbed myself when the guys touched me and fornicated all around me. I was the ice queen surrounded by white - with a pearl necklace. As I laid my tired body down, it struck me hard - the hollow shell my body had become. I was thrown around like a doll, busted up, bruised.
Motionless, I lay as warm trembling hands cuddled me in the dark, pressing against my body, finding a way in. Alas the door is covered with bricks and cement. Semen.
Deadpan eyes, mouth always opened. I’m a sex doll. Filled with air. Hollow. Air.
I do think about you. You make me human. But I know it wasn’t meant to be. Indulge me when I talk to you, cause it gives me the little hope that I need to tell me I’m not just a hollow shell. You give me depth. But I’ll have to say goodbye. Soon. Slowly. Surely. And let go of your hand - which I hope is still holding on. Goodbye.
Now drift - drift away.
I wanted to come back to familiar faces, smiling. I wanted to meet everyone I miss again. I wanted to feel refreshed and reenergized for the new semester. I wanted to, I wanted to. Why do I have even more questions now? Why do I feel so tired and drained? Why.
I’m confused and lonelier. I’m exhausted.
I’ll run away from all this again: all the open ends, all the question marks, all the what ifs. Was I doing myself a favour coming back? Or taking a gun and pointing it to my kneecap and emptying all the rounds?
Breathe. I need to. Stop. And.
Here I go again. Frustrated? Maybe, perhaps. It seems like things happen to show me that things will never happen. I’m tired. When I finally try, I’m shot down. Why bother in the first place?
Logistically, it can’t happen. Never - in fact. But love transcends all doesn’t it? Love? Is that what I’m calling it? What do I know anyways?
I’m wounded. Time to numb the pain.
Chug chug chug chug choo!
Brrm brrm click click weet!
Pew pew clink clink clink!
Bzzt bzzt bzzt bzzt!
Jigga jugga jigga jugga!
Help me. I’m suffocating. It’s here, it’s everywhere. Go away. Please. Dear God, I’m sorry. I’ve created a monster.
It happened the first time. It happens each time. And each time, a clearer picture. It’s like a sport now to me. Practice. Practise. Practice. I’m pretty sure I left my emotions at the door. What is love anyway? Does it even have a part to play? Is it just me? Perhaps.
I’m usually not even there when it happens anymore. I’m just a body - a pulsating, sweaty body - void of human warmth. A corpse. Necrophilia much? It’s this numbness in my soul, like a swelling I can’t stop, and it’s consuming me.
You know how rape victims suffer from trauma and block out everything? I guess it’s pretty much the same feeling. Just that the only person that fucked me is
Another monotonous night gone by. Fuck, no, it’s morning already. I’m bored. Stiff. And now flaccid. My dishes from dinner are crusting up. That’s gonna be a bitch to scrub off later. I need to get out. No, but it’s so late, how bout an early start to the day tomorrow? No, I’m so awake now. Perhaps I’ll go downstairs for another cigarette. But it’ll just be the same as the one I had 15 minutes ago: uneventful..
Fuck it, I’m drinking the Bacardi in the kitchen.
I know I can deal with shit. I’ve done it before. Just turn your back, and walk away. Forget it ever happened.
No. I can’t do this. God, Colin, if there’s any human left in you, just cry. No more hard-ass bitch on the outside. Break down these walls you hide behind. All these people you have learnt to love, trust and respect, not one tear? Seriously? My tear ducts have been clogged with years of sucking it up and being strong - on the outside. Trust me, I can be a wreck, I want to be a wreck, I am a wreck. Like I always tell myself, I only know I’m still human when I cry. Why is it so hard now?
I don’t want to forget any of you. Ever.
Love you all.