22 август, 2014

i need to be nothing

Не ми вярвай, не ми възлагай надежди и очаквания, не ме искай. Не мога да обещая вечности и любов в множествено число. Не мога да строя замъци от стъкло и да стоя отвън на дъжда отново. Студено е и аз съм студена. Затова ръцете ти ме изгарят, а устните изпиват и малкото ми останал живот. Знаеш ми слабите места по-добре, отколкото аз самата. Знаеш какво да ми кажеш и как точно, за да замълча и да спра да мисля. А трябва. Живях прекалено дълго на емоции и стъклени замъци само за да ми се стоварят отгоре и да се порежа на парчетата стъкло. Цялата съм в белези, които не можеш да видиш и смълчавам едва демоните и чудовищата, за да те предпазя от онова себе си, което толкова пъти е било навън в бурята, че вече се страхува дори да отнмие мръсните си ръце с вода. 
Пръстите ми чертаят думи по кожата ти. Имат нужда да държат някого силно, за да може този някого да държи мен, за да не се разпадна из основи. Не, че вече не съм го сторила, но някак си е опияняващо някой да ти казва, че тъмнината в теб е без значение и да те гледа така, сякаш никога не си имал белези по себе си. Но в секундата, щом момента приключи те се отварят наново - стари и нови рани, които закривам с ръце и после ми е трудно да отмия кръвта с водата от дъжда, която считах за блаженство. 
Умът ми е свърталище на духове, които непрестанно крещят или шепнат. Вярно е, че имаме всичкото право да правим своите избори, но нямаме власт над последиците. Чертах вечности, а се превърнах в пепел. Бях мечтателка, а сега едва успявам да преживея вечерта. Утрото е още по-лошо, защото е красиво и обещава спокойствие, а после веднага щом изляза, дъждът се изсипва отгоре ми. Не плача. Не крещя и не викам. Безсмислено е. Нямам думи да опиша колко не желая да бъда себе си, а някой друг, далеч от тук, на когото не се е случило нищо и който още вярва. Но как да вярваш, когато хората, които са значили света за теб се окажат онези, които превръщат този твои мечтан свят в пух и прах, а теб сриват със земята. Нямам предвид само сега. Имам предвид всичко. 

оставям на дъжда да отмие всичко от мен.

единственото, за което мисля,
са падащите капки и
предстоящото море.
всичко друго се губи в хоризонта
и престава да ме засяга.


i must be every therapist's dream

In the cold light of day I still feel empty where I should feel happy. Because as good a thing as this is, I am not. I can never be. I am the ocean, I am nothing. Nothing can ever be enough for me. I want flames, I want waves, I want the storm and I want the calm after it. Because like it or not, ghosts exist for a reason and they tend to break you even after you are so done with them you can't believe they were ever people before. But it hurts and it drowns me and I can't breathe. I did not deserve this and I do not deserve him now, because all I can possibly do is try and fix myself by using him, by breaking him. I don't want to, but I will. I can't be that girl again who builds sand castles and pretends to be a princess. I can't possibly lay awake at night hoping to see him tomorrow, when tomorrow tends to be the scariest day yet. Bad things happen and I don't want to be there when they do. So I want to do bad things and deserve everything that comes after. I need to reach that point of self-destruction where there is nothing else left but ghosts, the smoke of my cigarette, the taste of his lips and his warm touch and the scars that is all left all over me. 
It sucks when so many people were responsible for your world falling apart. It sucks that you were hoping that one of them would be holding it no matter what. When the truth is, you only ever have yourself. And that should be enough. Will be enough!
That's it. In order to start over you need to burn it all from before and never look back. And I am so good at looking back. But not going back. I have wasted myself away on people who could never possibly understand what it takes to be around them. I have lost my edges and become a version of myself that makes me sick. I want to have my fire back and to write and to be. Without any complications and thoughts. With just my music and no more of his perfume all over me. I need to be myself, to be free, and to be on my own, before I can belong again.

till i lose control

Of everything I've lost, I miss myself the most...
Wait, what?! How did I become the one being played?
He is going to be the death of me and what is left of my soul and sanity. And I can't seem to mind.

It goes with the song I wrote and what a friend said about sending my character to hell so she can come back leading the devil himself. From the ashes I will rise. I need to burn it all down so I can find what is left of me and start over. And if you are the key to that I gladly agree to be played. Damn you! Damn you and your music and your magic. Damn your lips and damn your touch.

No one tells me to shut the fuck up. And I'd never listen, but last night my words were gone or wouldn't come out right and that should be telling me a lot. You are evil and you don't play fair. I thought I was the evil one. Because I've learned from the best of them all. I can play games and lie till the lie becomes me. I don't want to. I don't need to. Because I need you to be scared. I need you to not thrust me and to see all the reasons why I am no good for you. I am not good for anyone right now. Because what doesn't kill you sure as hell fucks you up for good.


15 август, 2014

the devil within

This post goes with a favorite song.
And there are things that you know you're going to regret the second they are over, but you do them anyway, because you owe yourself at least a little bit of faith to choose what is right. Yet what is right cannot possibly be more wrong for me. It is the scene of a crime - the crime of me thinking that I might be good for him. I can't possibly be. My blood doesn't rush through my veins from his touch, my lips don't hurt where his touched them, my hands don't ache from being away from him. What aches are the pieces of me that somehow still care about others and want them to be okay and I feel like I will be the reason why he is not as awesome as he is right now any more. I told you this was a bad idea. I am no good for you and no good for anyone right now, which is why I should not be standing all that close to you and you should be running. Because I was where you are right now when my whole mess started and I was determined to fix what is broken without realising that I will cut myself so badly on the shreds of someone else's broken heart. Because hearts once broken can never be replaced or properly fixed and will always have sharp edges here and there and what they are good for is to break others. 
It's so easy to believe the lie that things will be okay when someone is looking at you as if you can be whole again. I could have... Past tense. I need to fix myself and not do so by hurting someone. I need to go through all the pieces, cut myself again if I have to, figure out what I need and what I don't, throw stuff away, empty my system from the memories and give myself time to make place for new ones. Because where what ended stands I had an eternity planned and I can no longer fight for things that don't exist but that doesn't mean that it won't hurt again as soon as another dark day comes. I need caffeine. Three hours of sleep do not work well with my messed up brain. I need craziness. I don't need peace and quiet and understanding but for someone to tell me to shut the hell up, stop thinking and start doing. Scream, kick, throw things, break things ... That's fixing. Sitting under the night sky looking at the stars is what you do after the storm is over and mine is not nearly there. I am the storm. I am the ocean and I need to be nothing and feel nothing until I can properly give name to my feelings and stand behind my choices. And yet I am scared to look myself at the mirror, because I kind of want to punch myself for having the oh-so innocent idea to actually give myself a chance. 
There is no saving me. And even if there was, I don't want to be saved. In fact, I'm starting to enjoy my insanity and the fact that I couldn't care less. His heart was about to burst out of his chest and mine was simply pulsing and keeping me alive. I don't find it hard to talk because you are there but because what I have to say might not be what you want to hear. 
So much thinking and I don't even have coffee in my system. I need to sleep and be away and figure it all out. I have exams, I have a family vacation to plan and I so want to be left alone. It is quite painful to be in my own skin and accept my actions. Last night it all made sense. Now it doesn't. Well, no. It didn't make sense last night when I was left alone. It only made sense because my sick and twisted mind needed the comfort of having someone so awesome see something good in me. Just because he sees it, doesn't mean I do. And I thought I might.
No more right ways this time. If I am going to be broken, I will make sure I deserve it.

14 август, 2014

the taste, the touch

New look of the blog, soon new look for me, my room and everything else. I am starting to surround myself with dreamers again, whose dreams may be just enough to make me believe in magic again. After only a few hours of sleep I still don't need coffee to keep me awake, because I have inspiration.
I miss Fia. Reading about her made me feel slightly better knowing that I was not the only one so broken that I keep tap-tap-tapping without her reason to do it and I most certainly doubt fixing me is possible. But I will fix myself and I will write it all away. I just need to be reminded that I can do it all every once in a while, because things suck way too much for me to be optimistic and happy all the time. Well, this could be improved. But it's not something I want to mention until there is something to mention. 
And waking up is getting quite better and easier. I don't need convincing that this isn't happening and that I have gone completely insane. Not that I am not planning on exploring my insanity with my dear Terry but that is way ahead in the future. Time is what I want. Time to pack all the stuff I don't need, to put all the memories in boxes, to think about it until there is no possible thought, to learn what I have to for my exams and to relax, because I'm 21 and I have all the time in the world to worry and go crazy. Above all, to write. Because then I'd be my best self, leaving all the scars on the paper and healing myself in the best possible way. Yep, there is nothing like art to fix a broken heart. And my dear, I'd love all your craziness and I'd most certainly want as much of it as possible, if only I had the chance to have it. 

until strong is all you can be

When life sucks, writing comes to save me. My mind has been full of ideas lately and now seems to be a good time to let them take over me. Yes, insanity, please take over me. I am sick of drowning in my own sleep and finding it hard to deal with reality every morning. In fact, not only every morning but almost all the time I'm awake. And I need to fix myself before the end of september because then I'd have to be twice as awesome as I am now so I can pull it all off and get all the pressure away, so I can function properly between studying and working without actually losing what's left of my mind.
To be honest, I am starting to love this new chapter of my life. I am loving every single bit of being awesome just for me and no one else. I will write and I will have the world and it will all be great. Keep walking all over me, keep telling me what to do, keep pushing me, so I can push back and fight and remember just how strong I can be.

13 август, 2014

(barely) breathin'

I am my own hero, I am slowly putting my pieces together and yet it all keeps crushing over me the second I see the light again. Because I am never good enough and what I do is never enough and I wish people would live their lives and let me leave mine in peace and away from them. Because it is taking every bit of strength for me to keep waking up and doing what I am supposed to be and I am getting used to this and liking it. And just when I am finally smiling for me and appreciating everything else I have, another someone decides to punch me in the stomach and make me gasp for air. Yes, mom, family is important. But did you ever consider that my world fell apart while you were yet again picking fights with me? Do you know that I refused to come home because I knew he would be easier to be around as a friend than you as a mother? Because he is - he of all people who have betrayed and hurt me is holding me together for the short while we will still be living together while you are breaking me to pieces. He is the one telling me it's going to be fine while you are judging me and saying you know me. No, you don't. Because if you did, you'd know how hard it has been for me to keep it together and you'd shut the hell up, leaving me to mend the way only I can. 
And they all come first - the people that were holding me while my world was collapsing all over me. I will do this, and I will do it my way. And I will once and for all make you shut up and stop telling me what to do, because I know better than to listen to you and you should know that telling me what to do will only make me do the oposite. Well, so far for you knowing me. And I stayed for me, not for him. I stayed, because as painful as things are, he gets me and you don't. You can never know who I am, because you will never accept me, but I have nothing to prove to you anymore. I am who I am and it is inspite of you. And it's not my fault you don't know your own daughter.  

11 август, 2014

light me

And then there was silence thanks to all the over-thinking and sleep deprivation. My head is a mess and my thoughts take a life of their own too often for me to be able to handle them. I am in the desperate need for answers and as my issues go, I am also desperate to fix things and do my best again just so I can be laughed at later. Well, what's new around here.
But you can't fake that and it can't be just the habit. You just can't. Which is why I am full of chances and I am giving them for free till I'am left with nothing but what should have been.
Now there is the me who wants it all back and is ready to ruin what's left of her to have that and the me that takes care of everything and keeps me whole as much as it's humanly possible. Because it sucks and it hurts and it will never stop hurting me, but to be honest, I want back what it used to be, not what it was lately. And that part of it will probably never return again. Sometimes I think I want all the bad parts so I can have the good, but then I remember all the times I've hated myself for not running away and being to scared to admit that it was not what I wanted. I am all for giving chances and ruining myself since I was never whole anyway, but there are some things that you can't fix even if there is nothing left in you afterwards. Because no matter how much you give, there's no one to give you back and to fix you. I have managed to fix myself a bit, and I have awesome friends to help me reach a level of proper functioning until it all makes sense again.
I swear, sometimes, especially late at night or early in the morning it feels like a dream. Like I've had a nightmare and he will call any second asking what's wrong and I'll tell him and he will tell me that it all never happened. But then after two hours I manage to trick my mind into accepting the truth until it forgets again. And the tears come and I feel like screaming but nothing comes, because I am short of breath and it hurts all over as if I will simply stop being any second. Those are the darkest times, I guess. And then it all light bit by bit. As long as I am not left alone for too long, I am okay. I even just wrote a song, but I'm pretty sure it sucks, because I've never been good at that. Still, I am doing my best.