Aegslenaarthes
Bluelighter
I don't know what I've got to be complaining about. Sometimes I still do. Everything is alright for me; nothing is going to really make any problems if I do nothing, or if I go out and decide to do everything I always wanted, if only I knew what that could be. I have no real pain, no real adversity to overcome, just nothing. I can sit here for hours and not think anything, it never seems to feel like a waste. It doesn't feel worthwhile either, just nothing.
Looking through the mirror, I'm not too bothered about my looks. Sometimes I just stand there and pull faces, or pick my nose, or maybe a bit of satire about someone I don't like, for whatever reason. Makes me laugh. Makes me wonder, through the deep black of those shallow pinpricks for pupils, where it's all coming from or why I'm so bothered. It matters, just not enough worth tagging at everyone else about. When I talk I'm told there is a problem, when I confide I'm told there isn't. How can you be so sure when different people say different things, and I don't know what to think. I don't like sharing pain with everyone else, they have their own problems.
I watch someone close to me in pain, in fear, in loneliness. I begin to realise that her problems are not all that they seem on the outside. A deep anxiety, a more pronounced dread lies beneath the surface. Sometimes they seem like mine, but then I get cut off.
"Get away from me, I don't need your help!" Things and emotions thrown at me from across the room. Bad tempers run high, people cry. It was never like this before I came back, I think as I run upstairs. Away from it all, I smoke a cigarette. I'm supposed to have quit these things, I want to feel the burning as the smoke pours down. A vape wasn't made for these moments, so I thought; no place for artificial embers while the tobacco burns crisp between my shaking fingers. Tears soaking into the paper while I rock back and forth, ashamed of myself but completely helpless as to why.
I can help some pain, some more in others than in myself. This is what I've been told. It's about now when I start to look back.
Backwards, a hole so deep and black I can't see the surface returns my glance. This hole almost knocks me off balance by being so close. Glancing at the empty room in front of me I see a lonely person staring back in the mirror. These lights are gone now, this room is dark with only a dusken shade to see where I'm going. Suddenly the hole doesn't look so bad, so I dive into the past. Jumping in screaming until all sound is blocked out and the colours fall away. I must be asleep again. I feel a metal point scraping the bones in my back, as some kind of mortal fear becomes me.
Horrors long forgotton lurk there, things that I have yet to pay for. People who have yet to exact their revenge. This was the past alright, I feel this sadness as it begins to manifest physically at the bottom of my neck, crawling into my head. Desperate to see some good in my life, I remember friends been and gone, new beginnings, old haunts. I try and draw the line between how this was and what is now. There is no line, only myself, standing between a rock and a hard place. All lives end, all hearts are broken, but I still don't know how this is so. Something begins to smother my face. Kicking and screaming without sound or movement, I don't know. I just don't know. We just don't know. We may never know.
The falling never wakes me up. Here, it is impossible to tell whether or not breathing is even taking place to begin with, I just hope so and carry on falling, my conscience poking and scraping and cutting at me in the dark. Putting my feelings into a bag of oblivion, hoping that one day I never go in there to follow, but I always do. There is no salvation here, with all the colours and distractions in the world; current events, politics, philosophy, friends, family, love. Just like turning on your television because you are afraid of the dark. But I'm terrified of real things tearing me apart. Somehow they always do in the most subtle of ways. I can't think, I can't relate, therefore I can't feel. I must be wrong I know it, this must be too much, I try desperately to find solace here but I've already jumped inside. There is no stopping this once it has started, there is no redemption to be found in the past. There must be something, anything. I need good in my life; honour, courage, loyalty. Where once I thought I had these and commanded that of others, I succumb to the reality that perhaps I was kidding myself. Or worse, kidding others. But you can't kid a kidder, can you? I hope not.
My friends have been more than there for me, yet one by one they washed their hands of me. I don't blame them. Who is going to want to keep talking to someone when he can't even answer his phone calls most of the time. Whether I find reasons or rationalisations, there are explanations there for me. After all, I don't alienate all of my friends. Sadly, the ones I reach out to never seem to want me all that much, as time and time again I'm taken for granted. Lies and deception become them, suddenly it's me who wants to get away and find something new. It's hard for me to see anything but the good in someone, sometimes this allows them to take advantage.
I change my choice of friends, perhaps you would consider to real people, but one way or another that self destruct button keeps pressing on. Now I have no idea if I've pushed my friends away or if they are fed up with me. Through factors I can't control, I get to sit here and watch the continuity in isolation. There is a rift between us and I thought it was just madness, now I don't know what this is. Do you know I watch and wonder as the world turns around and it's as though I don't exist. I never existed though, or did I? Do I exist now? Is this life? Am I just the shittest friend there ever was? Am I standing on the feelings of someone who wants more from me? Perhaps I want more from them? I don't know, so I try not to think. It's hard not to think, or overthink, whichever it might be. Somehow there isn't a problem keeping an open mind, there never is. I could be confusing this with self doubt, but I would not know why.
There is nobody to talk to about it because nothing is wrong. How can you cry so much that there is nothing wrong? There must be something. I seem destined for loneliness no matter how hard or little I try. I seem like I ruin everything good in my life but I do not know why. For the life of me I just can't think why.
I just don't know.
Looking through the mirror, I'm not too bothered about my looks. Sometimes I just stand there and pull faces, or pick my nose, or maybe a bit of satire about someone I don't like, for whatever reason. Makes me laugh. Makes me wonder, through the deep black of those shallow pinpricks for pupils, where it's all coming from or why I'm so bothered. It matters, just not enough worth tagging at everyone else about. When I talk I'm told there is a problem, when I confide I'm told there isn't. How can you be so sure when different people say different things, and I don't know what to think. I don't like sharing pain with everyone else, they have their own problems.
I watch someone close to me in pain, in fear, in loneliness. I begin to realise that her problems are not all that they seem on the outside. A deep anxiety, a more pronounced dread lies beneath the surface. Sometimes they seem like mine, but then I get cut off.
"Get away from me, I don't need your help!" Things and emotions thrown at me from across the room. Bad tempers run high, people cry. It was never like this before I came back, I think as I run upstairs. Away from it all, I smoke a cigarette. I'm supposed to have quit these things, I want to feel the burning as the smoke pours down. A vape wasn't made for these moments, so I thought; no place for artificial embers while the tobacco burns crisp between my shaking fingers. Tears soaking into the paper while I rock back and forth, ashamed of myself but completely helpless as to why.
I can help some pain, some more in others than in myself. This is what I've been told. It's about now when I start to look back.
Backwards, a hole so deep and black I can't see the surface returns my glance. This hole almost knocks me off balance by being so close. Glancing at the empty room in front of me I see a lonely person staring back in the mirror. These lights are gone now, this room is dark with only a dusken shade to see where I'm going. Suddenly the hole doesn't look so bad, so I dive into the past. Jumping in screaming until all sound is blocked out and the colours fall away. I must be asleep again. I feel a metal point scraping the bones in my back, as some kind of mortal fear becomes me.
Horrors long forgotton lurk there, things that I have yet to pay for. People who have yet to exact their revenge. This was the past alright, I feel this sadness as it begins to manifest physically at the bottom of my neck, crawling into my head. Desperate to see some good in my life, I remember friends been and gone, new beginnings, old haunts. I try and draw the line between how this was and what is now. There is no line, only myself, standing between a rock and a hard place. All lives end, all hearts are broken, but I still don't know how this is so. Something begins to smother my face. Kicking and screaming without sound or movement, I don't know. I just don't know. We just don't know. We may never know.
The falling never wakes me up. Here, it is impossible to tell whether or not breathing is even taking place to begin with, I just hope so and carry on falling, my conscience poking and scraping and cutting at me in the dark. Putting my feelings into a bag of oblivion, hoping that one day I never go in there to follow, but I always do. There is no salvation here, with all the colours and distractions in the world; current events, politics, philosophy, friends, family, love. Just like turning on your television because you are afraid of the dark. But I'm terrified of real things tearing me apart. Somehow they always do in the most subtle of ways. I can't think, I can't relate, therefore I can't feel. I must be wrong I know it, this must be too much, I try desperately to find solace here but I've already jumped inside. There is no stopping this once it has started, there is no redemption to be found in the past. There must be something, anything. I need good in my life; honour, courage, loyalty. Where once I thought I had these and commanded that of others, I succumb to the reality that perhaps I was kidding myself. Or worse, kidding others. But you can't kid a kidder, can you? I hope not.
My friends have been more than there for me, yet one by one they washed their hands of me. I don't blame them. Who is going to want to keep talking to someone when he can't even answer his phone calls most of the time. Whether I find reasons or rationalisations, there are explanations there for me. After all, I don't alienate all of my friends. Sadly, the ones I reach out to never seem to want me all that much, as time and time again I'm taken for granted. Lies and deception become them, suddenly it's me who wants to get away and find something new. It's hard for me to see anything but the good in someone, sometimes this allows them to take advantage.
I change my choice of friends, perhaps you would consider to real people, but one way or another that self destruct button keeps pressing on. Now I have no idea if I've pushed my friends away or if they are fed up with me. Through factors I can't control, I get to sit here and watch the continuity in isolation. There is a rift between us and I thought it was just madness, now I don't know what this is. Do you know I watch and wonder as the world turns around and it's as though I don't exist. I never existed though, or did I? Do I exist now? Is this life? Am I just the shittest friend there ever was? Am I standing on the feelings of someone who wants more from me? Perhaps I want more from them? I don't know, so I try not to think. It's hard not to think, or overthink, whichever it might be. Somehow there isn't a problem keeping an open mind, there never is. I could be confusing this with self doubt, but I would not know why.
There is nobody to talk to about it because nothing is wrong. How can you cry so much that there is nothing wrong? There must be something. I seem destined for loneliness no matter how hard or little I try. I seem like I ruin everything good in my life but I do not know why. For the life of me I just can't think why.
I just don't know.
