Sunday, January 9, 2011

Truth Ruth

It doesn't matter how harsh I am. I'll eventually recover. I know. You know. I'm just trying to release this aggression, this anger in any way I can. Out of me! Be gone!The truth is that this is really hard. The truth is I will always love you. The truth is that I miss you. The truth is that μου λείπεις σοβαρα.
That's all.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Look, I'm 16 again!

This totally fucking blows. Here I am sitting in my aunt's apartment on Friday night hoping that someone will call me so we can go out and I can forget for maybe a few hours how sorry my situation is. I am having a really fucking hard time with egolessness, with nonaggression, with anything that has to do with loving kindness. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate myself and I feel like I want to die. I want my old life back with you. I want happiness back in my heart. I'm tired of crying, tired of trying to get better. I am hanging on by a thread. For Christ's sake I feel like I want somebody to just cut it. "Get rid of me," I say. Throw me in a dumpster. I'm done.
Things that I want to ask you:
Was it worth it to you?
Is this what you were hoping for?
Things that I want to ask God:
Did Adrian die so that I may be exposed as a wretched thing?
Was that the plan?
I was a child once. I've seen photos. I had a little heart and little feet while everything around me was big big big. Along the way I learned to yell, swear, cut myself, do drugs, and break things. There were moments of hope. Things that came in the forms of love, acceptance and approval. There were moments when life felt good. You had your hand in that but you also drove a stake through my heart.
I feel like an underdog sometimes.The life of an underdog. Acceptance is always fleeting.
And you who loved me like no one ever had. I was your world. You loved me. You saint. Of course you die. Of course you die in my city, under my watch, in my care. These are how the stories of underdogs go.

I know this is violent. I feel violent. There is violence everywhere. I actively contribute to the destruction of things. I live because I don't deserve to die. Here is your tragic bride, cursed walker of the Earth, envious of your freedom from me.