April 1, 2010

Sometimes I feel like screaming.

Sometimes, there’s this anger and fear inside me.

Sometimes, it all boils up. The hatred, the rage, the sadness, the loneliness. It boils until it feel like I’m about to explode.

And then…… right then…. it feels like a piece of my soul has broken off. Like a piece of my very existence, my fragrance of life has died. I hold it in. I push it back down within me. I force it all down, kept hidden away.

Sometimes… I wish I could get rid of all this teenage angst that surrounds me. That I could be left with all the happiness, and I could shrug off the bad things. That… in some aspect… I wasn’t human. That I wouldn’t have to suffer.

I could make thousands of metaphors or similes to describe it. I could be creative. But I’m being blunt. I wander, constantly, hiding all feeling, wishing I could just cry sometimes…. but I don’t. I wander on. Letting it eat away at me, the sick feeling in my stomach. The feeling you can’t describe, but if you had not felt it you would not understand. But imagine, if you will. Standing alone in the dark. In complete nothingness. With no feelings or emotion. But a gradual insanity, a rage, a needing to be released grows.
No… that’s wrong. The feeling… is like waiting in a hospital bed, and the Doctor slowly enters the room, life moves in slow motion, like the whole world is revolving around you in the one exact moment. His mouth opens and he speaks. But you don’t hear him. Not completely, you already know what he’s said as the world melts around you… the feeling in your stomach, that… that some sort of sickness. You’re going to die.

Yes. That’s the feeling. A sort of nothingness, a heavy weighing on your soul, as it shatters into a million pieces. Sure you live on, but you’re never truly living.
Living life in this depressed state, where you don’t truly belong. Like you shouldn’t really exist. You do. And you don’t want it to end. You just wish it was better. And as the days go by the sickening feeling grows.

You never really enjoy…. food doesn’t taste, you just eat because you’re supposed to. You don’t enjoy the sun upon your skin, or the cold breeze across your face. The thought of death always on you mind. A nothingness. An end. The pleasures in life are void.

Sometimes I feel like dying.

But I don’t. I wont. Not today. No. Today as I sit by myself, having philosophical arguments in my head about the point of it all. I will not live like others. I will not be understood. I will talk to people, as if I am a person. Yet I am not. Because I do not understand who I am. I have not yet developed my personality, not yet defined myself. I am still a void.
I will talk to my friends, I will laugh and argue. But in those silent moments, when the void grows and I go blank, falling from reality….. I will have learned more than other have. I have learned to feel dead. So when I grow, pass my teen angst, my hatred and fear, and when I truly live…. well…. I will truly live.


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