Tuesday, 13 November 2012

life in technicolour

its so bright, inside your head, the colours are so bright.
you wish it was the good kind of bright, but its not, it blinds you, and everything is moving too fast
and you can't see straight, you can't concentrate.
life in technicolour
it makes you dizzy, and you feel like you constantly want to throw up.

you walk down the street during the day, wait what? how can it be you walking?
but it is you, you see yourself, haha, this is insane, you are insane, but there you are, walking down the street, but not quite walking down the street. but walking down the street.

or it looks like you.

you walk side by side with yourself. you know where you are meant to be going. how you know this, you dont fucking know, you just know you are about to....sneeze right now. and somehow you just stopped. you dont know why either.

you hate it when this happens so suddenly. it was okay an hour ago, you know your name, you know the colour of your eyes, you know how much you weigh. you know that you have just eaten.
but here you are, you don't quite know why you are full, and why does your skin feel so strange, why is it tingly/
"when this happens to you, am going to ask you to try not to panic" they said.

BUT HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU NOT PANIC WHEN YOU ARE LOSING YOUR BODY??

somehow you are walking faster.
'stop'
faster
'no'
faster
'please'
and you get home. and no. you are still not you.
no one is home yet. its so eerily quiet the realization that its not you walking to the bathroom hits you harder.
why are you taking that bottle of pills?
stop
stop
'its okay' the other one says, 'we will make it stop' she whispers
then she takes a pill.
'it didnt work'
'you lied'
  and you dont know why you are taking another pill. but the prickly feeling in your skin won't stop.

try to breathe. you cant, because he is doing it.
and you dont know how to breathe.
and you want to feel.
and you need to feel anything beside the blood beneath the skin that is not yours.


and your phone rings, and you watch yourself pick it up.

'remember to breathe'
the reminder says
'band practice in ten minutes'
and somehow a thrill goes through your spine. YOUR spine.
oh.
okay.
'good thing you hid those blades idiot'
you laugh.
OH.
and you know its YOU laughing, because you can feel the tears falling down,
and you're crying, and laughing, and you must look half mad standing in the tub laughing and crying at the same time, but you wouldn't know because you can't see it.
so you breathe.




for Rikku

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Elusive Light, Elusive Darkness. of wishes and wizards

when the day is bright, so bright infact, you need a pair of sunnies to block that harsh glare from the sun,
and automatically, it is somehow a sign of life. you think that maybe, its because you hate the dark, or is it all of mankind? all these little sayings and anecdotes that have been thrown around for years and years, 
"its always darkest before the dawn"
 you wish everyday, that when you woke up, its a little bit brighter.
but all that surrounds you is darkness. not pitch black, that, you feel would have been way better, when its dark, you stay put, everyone stays put, its over, its dark. the silence and the mood, is peaceful. the kind of darkness that sleep doesn't provide anymore. the kind of darkness that you feel needs no music to set a tone..the kind of darkness where everyone leaves you alone. the kind of darkness only death will bring it seems.
..no, the darkness that surrounds you is a shade that reminds you of wispy fog. and everyone expects you to navigate through it every morning. because it is expected. as long as there is a ray of light, you get up, and it doesn't matter if by the end of your route, you are bleeding and sore because you stepped on too many poisonous shards, or that you hit your head on a tree that you did not see coming. or you were run over by a train because dear heavens, there was a train track? as long as you are breathing, by the end of the route, regardless of the gashing wounds and parched throats, you have to do it again, and again, until its too dark. oh the darkness, how you crave it. sometimes you fancy that you spy it, but then the blasted light at the end of the tunnel shines through...and you have to keep going.

this never ending cycle of light and foggy mist, makes you wonder if this is all there is to your life. 
natural lighting makes a good background for a beautiful picture. but the shades in your life are not backgrounds. everything else is. to be so consumed by this battle that is; should i step into the fog again? is it time for darkness yet? that you forget that there are people on the sidelines cheering you on. pushing you, drawing you into that everlasting light that you only get rays of it seems.

"today was a bad day" she says, she didnt turn in her work on time and got chewed and spit out. but its okay, she calls the love of her life and a joke is shared and the dementors are no more.

"today is a bad day" you say, because you woke up and that knot in your stomach has grown in size, because its monday, the world of the living calls out to you, and you swallow that lump in your throat when you can't decide whether to have muesli or bran for breakfast, but it doesnt matter anyway because you hate them both, but its monday, you cant have pancakes on monday. and the dementors swoop in and you spend your day thinking of a patronus that you start to believe never existed in the first place. 
but as long as its not absolute darkness you have the damned muesli and you face the world....only its foggy, and the masses smell like dead people, and you know this because you went to see a friend at the funeral home, and it was like, 'oh, so thats the stench i have been having under my nose.'
you wonder if you smell like a corpse too. 

if only wishes came true, you wouldnt have to wonder.


for sammy


ta-ta darlings