I am having troubles believing that there are positive things in this world. The only one I do believe in, I do not possess. It always seem just out of reachlike a long hallway that continually extends its length and love is that glowing orb that lights up the entire tunnel. The faster you seem to run towards it, the further you are from it. I am at the point where now, I just sit in the hallway, my back against the wall, and just admire it from afar. In my reality, love just disappears. I have it one moment, and the next, it's gone without a trace as if I imagined it all in my mind. Just as I give up on it again and move on, it's back with a vengeance desperate to pull me in again. It whispers to me everything I ever wanted to hearit tells me I am beautiful, intelligent, and humorous. I turn to grab its hand, and poof, it's gone again. I am beginning to wonder if I am just making this shit up-- if I am asleep somewhere in some cold room in a god forsaken castle in a god forsaken land. I hope so. I hope this entire life is a nightmare that I will wake up from.
I am also thankful for being given this broken heart. It means I am alive and still capable of feeling. I am not numb just yet. The only sad thing is that the only place where I thrive is in my mind where I can dream. There, every wish I have ever made is a truth. There, I love and am loved in return. There, I am the person that I've walled up inside with the intent to protect. There, I am free from those who have mocked me here, from those who say I am worthless, hopeless, nothing. There is no threat of the Nothing coming to destroy. But here, in this place called Reality, the Nothing is a very serious threat that has released its first wave on my heart. Right now, the Nothing is winning.
The obvious question to that comment is, 'Where is Bastion?' My answer: 'I am not sure if I want to know.' Honestly, I do not even know who my Bastion is.
Actually, scratch the whole Never Ending Story theme, it makes me feel like a sexual deviant. You understand what I am trying to say here though.
Aned said she saw me as a Valkyrie. The thought makes me smile, but I am not a strong person underneath all this armor. I just simply appear that way because I hold my head high no matter the circumstances. I still hold on to that last shred of hope.
A lot of you are going to respond with "You're still young. You have so much time". No, I do not. My soul is dying. Everything I am is withering away into nothingness. I am already becoming a bitter woman. I will probably start collecting cats soon too. And do not tell me I am being dramatic. I will show you dramatic when I kick your face in.
See, this makes me sad. This is a short clip of a conversation my friend Randall and I just had less than two minutes ago:
iamkatescochlea (1:55:10 AM): Good night, Randall.
AlmostPure (1:55:14 AM): Night, doll.
AlmostPure (1:55:16 AM): I'm sorry.
iamkatescochlea (1:55:21 AM): I'm sorry too.
What makes me sad about this conversation is that we did not fight about anything. Randall and I rarely fight at all. We are just awesome friends. Anyways, he is telling me he is sorry because I am miserable. We both are for a slight variation of the same issue.
I do not know anymore where to even take my next step or if I should even bother taking another step. People make fun of me because of the things that I hold dearmy fairytales, mythology, art. I hold them dear because they keep me aliveholding on for that shred of hope that always arrives in the direst of times. You can laugh all you want, I honestly do not care. I have had enough people laugh at me that it is almost as if I have become immune.
Anyways this rant has become entirely too diluted to continue. The point of the entire thing was thisI do not know how much longer I can hold on.
Here. This says it all-- Nightwish's The Escapist.
I am also thankful for being given this broken heart. It means I am alive and still capable of feeling. I am not numb just yet. The only sad thing is that the only place where I thrive is in my mind where I can dream. There, every wish I have ever made is a truth. There, I love and am loved in return. There, I am the person that I've walled up inside with the intent to protect. There, I am free from those who have mocked me here, from those who say I am worthless, hopeless, nothing. There is no threat of the Nothing coming to destroy. But here, in this place called Reality, the Nothing is a very serious threat that has released its first wave on my heart. Right now, the Nothing is winning.
The obvious question to that comment is, 'Where is Bastion?' My answer: 'I am not sure if I want to know.' Honestly, I do not even know who my Bastion is.
Actually, scratch the whole Never Ending Story theme, it makes me feel like a sexual deviant. You understand what I am trying to say here though.
Aned said she saw me as a Valkyrie. The thought makes me smile, but I am not a strong person underneath all this armor. I just simply appear that way because I hold my head high no matter the circumstances. I still hold on to that last shred of hope.
A lot of you are going to respond with "You're still young. You have so much time". No, I do not. My soul is dying. Everything I am is withering away into nothingness. I am already becoming a bitter woman. I will probably start collecting cats soon too. And do not tell me I am being dramatic. I will show you dramatic when I kick your face in.
See, this makes me sad. This is a short clip of a conversation my friend Randall and I just had less than two minutes ago:
iamkatescochlea (1:55:10 AM): Good night, Randall.
AlmostPure (1:55:14 AM): Night, doll.
AlmostPure (1:55:16 AM): I'm sorry.
iamkatescochlea (1:55:21 AM): I'm sorry too.
What makes me sad about this conversation is that we did not fight about anything. Randall and I rarely fight at all. We are just awesome friends. Anyways, he is telling me he is sorry because I am miserable. We both are for a slight variation of the same issue.
I do not know anymore where to even take my next step or if I should even bother taking another step. People make fun of me because of the things that I hold dearmy fairytales, mythology, art. I hold them dear because they keep me aliveholding on for that shred of hope that always arrives in the direst of times. You can laugh all you want, I honestly do not care. I have had enough people laugh at me that it is almost as if I have become immune.
Anyways this rant has become entirely too diluted to continue. The point of the entire thing was thisI do not know how much longer I can hold on.
Here. This says it all-- Nightwish's The Escapist.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
xoxo
i said, "i'm sorry you're a douchebag."
<3