Im sorry

I feel like I destroyed a precious thing we had.

I feel like I can never pretend it didn’t happen.

Im tired of being a disappointment.

 

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To My Best Friend in High School

I understand why you had to go.
We were toxic to one another already.
We couldnt stand each other,
We were just breaking each other.
But what i dont understand is why you thought i was drama.
Why am i drama?
Because i am a burden?
Do you know how many times a day im reminded by how much of a burden i am?
The sirens of my mind have already done that.
But you.
You tried to silence them once before.
Telling me im not a burden, that i never will be.
Then when you said you didnt need drama in your life so we called it quits is just pure bullshit.
Tell me.
What made you change your mind?
My neediness?
My sensitivity?
My clinginess?
My absolute longing for someone to reassure me that there are still good things in the world?
My constant deppressive and anxiety attacks?
Tell me.
Is it the latter?
Because i will not fucking say sorry for having attacks.
I will not say sorry for what i have and what i have to deal with.
I will not say sorry for my demons and how much they inconvienced you.

You never loved me.
Im sure of that now.
You never loved me.
Never.
Dont you dare say that you did.
Because you’ll be bulshitting yourself and me.
Not that you care about me.

Dont use the “i changed” card too.
Fuck you i changed and i still love you.
Yes. Until now.
Until now even if i am cursing you.
I still love you.
And you left me broken.
While you go frolick with the friends you used to tell me were plastic.
“I remember that it hurt. Looking at her hurt”
Never did i even think that this line from my favorite movie would be about you.

Vices

You know you are dead when you have found comfort in that ice-cold bottle of beer you are holding.

When that beer has become somewhat like your home.

After all, home is where you find comfort right?

You know you are dead when you have found yourself seeking every corner for that shot glass filled to the brim of tequila.

When you feel that smooth burn go down your throat, you feel safe.

Because you know that you can control what pain you feel and what pain you wont.

You would rather choose the pain of alcohol than the pain of your parents’ cruel words.

You would rather choose the pain of liquor that the pain of being left behind.

You would rather choose the sweet burn down your throat than the pain left behind by a broken heart.

You know you are dead when you feel the loneliness with an empty bottle of alcohol beside you.

Yet…

You feel so alive.

You know you are dead when you have found the fragrance of smoke coming out of a cigarette stick.

When you get a whiff of that smell, you go closer to that person sucking on it.

Till you find yourself saying,

“Can I have one drag?”

And of course, they offer you a stick instead.

And you accept it without a second thought.

You know you are dead when you crave the taste of nicotine.

When that is all you think about

And not even a nicotine patch can help you remove the pictures playing in your head.

You know you are dead when you find despair when you see cigarette sticks, unlit and on the ground.

Yet…

You feel so alive.

Just because one thing leads to death, doesn’t mean it makes you feel dead.

Vices make you feel alive,

So you can spend every single day feeling alive,

And when that day comes,

You know you spent your life well.

You know you spent your life feeling alive.

Welcome!

This is the untold story of people behind the addiction.

Listen to it.

Funerals

They’re my type of party.

I mean,

Who doesn’t love getting wasted because of a loss?

We do it all the time.

When we get a broken heart from the loss of a person.

When we get broken wrists from the loss of motivation.

Even as petty as losing a car to an accident

I mean…who cares about the person inside right?

You care more for the car you see as you pass by the highway and see an accident.

Don’t deny it, we all think of the car first before the person.

 

(Sigh)

 

Funerals.

My type of party

My favorite type of party

So when it is my time, to host this marvelous event

Here are some rules for those who want to attend my funeral.

 

Don’t wear black for mourning.

Wear it as if you are going to a formal black and white party!

Because what’s there to mourn about?

I’m finally free from the pains of this world.

Finally free from the cage that my parents locked me in for the longest time.

Don’t mourn because I’m finally free.

 

Make sure to drink.

It’s a party. Have fun!

Drinking is fun.

It makes you forget shit.

So this is my way of sharing my freedom with you.

So go ahead, drink till your livers erupt!

Drink till you feel as free as I am in that beautiful wooden bed that you put me in.

Drink to forget all your pains,

Drink.

 

Play my top 5 favorite songs.

First is “Broken Strings”

Second is “Gasoline”

Third is “All Those Pretty Lights”

Fourth is “Totally Fucked”

And lastly, the fifth, “Funerals”

And imagine me singing them by heart.

Imagine that I’m screaming at the top if my lungs trying to reach the high notes.

Imagine them as your lullabies to me as I sleep in the ocean of my freedom,

My last rule

When you see me there,

Say hi to me as if I were still in my body.

Laugh with me as if I were laughing too.

Smile at me before you leave.

Because I’m going to be there when you finally say you’re last words in front of my body.

 

When they finally carry my body down to be buried,

Don’t say goodbye.

Continue drinking.

Continue smiling.

Continue laughing.

Pretend you are in my party.

Would you cry in a party?

 

To everyone who remembered my rules…

Tell her please.

Tell her be happy for me.

Tell her…

Tell her to drink all the pains away.

To laugh when she sees my hideously made up face

To smile in amusement that I’m wearing a pink dress

And tell her this:

“You will always be my galaxy of stars, that’s where I am swimming right now. That’s my freedom. You. I’m swimming in your mind and heart. Don’t worry my belle. Just drink and have fun. Be happy. It’s a party.”

(Hi! This was inspired by Lukas Graham’s Song: Funeral)

 

 

 

 

Honestly?

Honestly?

I’m tired of thinking about you.

I’m tired of the constant memory of you

And how you used to be the only one to save me.

I’m tired of how part of the reason why the voices say what they say

Is because of you.

I fucking need to get my head together.

I need to be better for her.

Yet the memory of you makes the voices go

Tick tock

Tick tock

There’s the clock.

She’ll leave you too.

Better yet

Do the dance

Between death and you.

See what you’ve done to me?

You’ve turned me into a self-destructive time bomb.

I’m tired of the hurtful memories.

I’m tired of –

I’m tired.

 

Honestly?

I’m tired of feeling the isolation.

I’m tired of thinking you guys don’t want me to go with you.

I know that you don’t mean to.

I know you guys don’t mean to isolate me.

Or maybe I’m just overthinking?

I do that all the time.

I overthink as if I’m the one who is making the device that will either

End or start the war.

I’m tired of feeling alone when I’m with you guys.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m annoying.

 

 

Honestly?

Just fucking Honestly?

I’m so tired.

I’m so so tired.

Let me sleep,

For days in your arm my darling.

Let me sleep and listen to your wonderful heart beat.

Let me fall asleep to your singing,

Let me fall asleep with the thought that atleast someone loves me.

For I love you.

2.29.2016

“I wonder what would your High School self tell you now that you wear nail polish”

I know what she would say, “Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. What the fuck, Why are you still alive? We made a fucking plan. A plan you promised us you would keep. You promised us that you would stop hurting the people you love by stop being such a fucking burden and leaving this world. You promised us. How dare you be so selfish. What happened to being ‘I want to be a selfless person’ Fuck you. 

And now you’re with her? What the actual fuck. YOU ARE BURDENING HER CAN’T YOU SEE IT. Motherfucker how selfish can you be.

What the actual fuck.

You should be dead.”

 

“I bet she would say ‘What the fuck bro'”

Haha. Half true.

Entry #30

The scary nights are back. I need your arms around me. I need you beside me. I need to hear your voice. I need to feel your steady breathing, your steady heart beat.

I just…need you.

Don’t leave me alone at night please.