This should be my note:

The prominent point we all have in our lives, that overwhelming feeling that engulfs us when we come to the obvious conclusion that we don’t know who we are anymore? striped of our identity, forced and beaten with social stigmas, relentlessly habitually trying; dragging ourselves out of the bed away to the brutal reality once more.

I was such an ignorant child, I truly believed the concept and notion of everything having a fundemental difference, people we converse with manipulating and changing is as people, re shaping us. When I was abandoned I implemented this, reassuring myself that its okay because daddy diddnt mean to hurt me and mummy, they would come for me soon, they wouldn’t ever leave me they love me right? Excruciating, the only way in which can describe when I became illuminated by knowledge and the outside world, we as humans are programmed to survive, that unfortunately and regrettably means you have t kill the person you once were, that innocent child could never resurface, for the fragmentation of his broken disposition was still jagged within me. The burns and scars a permanent reminder of the me I used to be, because what else is there in life?

The overriding principal that profoundly impacts upon us, that gives us both direction and encouragement were, were is it? I have tried religion, science everything the only thing I find relief in is pain, a somewhat contorted and ironic drug of choice I know. But that sensation I receive when I see the blade glinting with the crimson stain of blood, its an adrenaline fix like no other, better than the weed, the drink, a wave of pressure that has been smothering you like a hazy cloud is suddenly revoked, and satisfaction invades, a guilty pleasure some might say. Vices – they are crucial, some might even categorize as paramount for our survival, if we are turned on we have sex, if we are stressed we smoke so why is cutting when numb not acceptable?

And whilst the rant is on, I might give you advice, dont ever fall in love, for what is supposed to be a beautiful thing I just find it confusing, heart wrenching and difficult. I am one who is not ashamed to admit that I have no problems getting undressed and getting to know you in this sense, its not when his sweet caress made my clothing melt, or when his lips touched mine they burnt like ciggerates, its the lack of protection, the breaking down of the walls and phasade that you have contentiously put up, that’s the hard bit … well in my opinion anyway. This is coming from a self identified freak, but im starting to think that there is no point, no larger picture that we are all individually working to.

This feeling of sadness is devastatingly consuming, smothering me like a pillow to a child s face. People leave a letter normally, I diddnt on my previous two attempts because I have always had nothing to say on the matter, but when im gone I want these series to be my note. What I have always wanted to say but could never find the words for, and dear god I sincerely hope that all of you struggling find your voices, see i used to believe that some were just not meant to be heard, but then I hear his, and yearn for his deep laugh and chuckle; he is so sweet, unassuming and beautiful that he would never understand that my departure is due to him, having something so perfect like that, will only lead to dismay, and sweet bitter resentment.

I don’t know if this is love but its intoxicating, because of you I know why storms are named after people, because of the damage and destruction upon which they inflict. Your words cut deeper than knives, penetrating through all the barriers you broke down, you forced me to trust you, I did, shame you were unable to implement the same curtsy.

I once knew someone who had a similar mind to that of mine, only he had considerable better people reading skills than me. We spoke of topics such as the labyrinth and how straight and fast is okay if you’ve exhausted out all other possibility’s. Because it comes down to basic facts in life, whose there for you? are you happy? if you just subconsciously answered no to both of these questions then im sorry because its inevitable you shall end up with the same somewhat tragic fate as me. I honestly thought that doing a history degree, would help me understand the world that surrounds me, but all I see is injustice, revolution, tyranny and death. Aristotle once wrote what is educating the mind when you dont educate the heart. My heart has safe to say had enough of learning, learning about all of the pain and sadness, it is everywhere and I do not know how to stop noticing it. this is me understanding, death is not cowardly, the thing with depression is your either victorious or its going to kill you. I have spent so long trying to get better now and it is safe to pronounce that im done, I hate unanswered questions, you were always an unanswered question to me. For the answer was love and through meeting you , i realsied that is something I can never reciprocate, for everything is black, and haunting and I am unable to live in a world like this. I want to be free once more, liberated the weight in my chest is so heavy, now it needs to stop beating.

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Broken

Depression is the deadliest of diseases, for there are no blood tests or scans, it  hides and lurks in the corner of your soul spreading its venom and numbness until you can go on no longer. Depression isn’t the pain riddled poems or the blood stained wrists, its the night terrors and waking up in relentless cold sweats.

The book thief, is a book of which is predominantly narrated by death, maybe that is the reason it is my favorite novel to ever be written, my favorite quote simmers down to, “even death has a heart”. I must emphasis and state I am neither naive nor ignorant and I don’t imagine a warm embrace with death, yet surely it has to be better than the sweet entice of a blade, or living an absent life that doesn’t even belong to me.

When most people imagine the future, it is perfect and picturesque filled with joy, career’s, marriage and children. When I envisage my future there is nothing …. literally nothing. I should in all probability find that terrifying yet I don’t most people have a substantial fear of death, yet i participate frequently in activitys which improves my chances, no such luck, it says something about you, when you cant even kill yourself correctly. Carved on my arm is the word “fail” I remember clearly doing it after putting a cigerate out on my forearm, it was the moment I realised I had failed at every aspect of my life. Academically I never achieved what I aspired to, in truth (sorry if your reading this) but I hate the majority of my pathetic friends.

But you know what I hate the most, living with people who are not my mum and dad yet still taking part in this fucking charade, I detest them and that’s the honest truth, only no one really likes the truth,it ironic really, when you think about it, we crave it but we never want to hear it, not really.  And people would call me selfish for saying that, so you don’t.

I miss my mum more than anything in this entire world, and I would easily give up the rest of my days for just one hour with her, I miss my dad, the thing that screws us up most in life is the picture of what things were supposed to be like, A once said that to me. And maybe he was right, I used to think he was right about everything, but some people deserve the pain, they deserve bad things to happen them. I am a big believer in karma, and hey maybe that’s the reason I go to bed every night and think about killing myself whilst cutting up.

I have an extreme internal conflict when it comes to my dad hence why I rarely speak about him; I have said no more than he wasn’t  a very nice man to most, because I don’t think I could say the whole truth out loud. People love the phrase its complicated, but really im starting to think that maybe not so much, I deserved everything I got, it was all my fault. I say I don’t know why I cut, but I think deep down inside I do, I just don’t want to admit it to myself. The situation with my mum and dad really fucked me up and it fucked me over. I finally want the game to be over, but life just wont let me stop playing.

It stained me and it doesn’t mater how hard I scrub it wont go.

Unawnserd Questions

The roses are dying, screaming for light

The violets are crying, done fighting the cold night.

I look at you, and promise im just fine,

when under my shirt im bleeding in straight lines.

The razor blade in my pocket is gleaming with pride,

While im concealing the fact, that I’m dying inside.

Everyday I am consumed, eaten alive

by the securities I suppress, deep inside.

Scars, forever decorating my skin,

on the outside and yet deep within.

Days go past – years go by

My emotions still hidden, help, I want to die.

Maybe the best place for me is locked in chains,

for my mind is far past insane.

Should I follow my brain or my heart?

Should I stay, or should I depart?

it’s so very hard to decide,

should I stop, or continue my suicide.

I tell myself not to be afraid,

after all its only a little, shiny blade

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