On one of the forums I frequent, someone asked the question: what song best "fits" you, or describes your life, either just at this moment or in general?
I thought about that for a while. When I realized what song has always resonated in my mind, well... it wasn't a happy thought.
Hurt - Trent Reznor
I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hole,
The old familiar sting.
Tried to kill it all away,
But I remember everything.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend.
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end.
And you can have it all,
My empire of dirt.
I will let you down.
I will make you hurt.
There's always that small part of me, the little self-destructive demon within, that delights in the seclusion. The misery. The pain. The subversive voice whispering that I'm nothing but a burden on everyone, and that they're all better off without me weighing them down.
I hurt, inside. I don't want to lash out at others because of it. I try to hold myself in check, apart, all alone and far away. I build my walls high. I bolster those walls as best I can.
They feel like they're getting thin.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Lies
In general, I don't lie very well about most things. Usually. I can try to weave tales of half-truths and evansion sometimes, but often even that doesn't work out. Mostly I have to straight-out stonewall, or tell the truth.
Usually. But not in all a cases.
For example, white lies seem to not be a problem for the most part. Those polite little lies you tell someone when to put them at ease, or bolster someone's mood, or sooth ruffled feathers or bruised pride.
Yeah, those I can do.
Most big lies I have a problem with.
I guess now that I think about it, it has to do with the intent of the lie. If the lie is for selfish reasons, like getting a promotion, or getting noticed, or getting out of trouble, then meh, you suck. But little lies meant to help others, or make them feel better - not towards your own advantage, but just for that person's sake... those I dunno. The line there seems murky to me.
Sincerity, integrity, loyalty, compassion. Cornerstones of my identity.
...and yet when someone asks me how I'm doing, I can lie and lie and lie...
Usually. But not in all a cases.
For example, white lies seem to not be a problem for the most part. Those polite little lies you tell someone when to put them at ease, or bolster someone's mood, or sooth ruffled feathers or bruised pride.
Yeah, those I can do.
Most big lies I have a problem with.
I guess now that I think about it, it has to do with the intent of the lie. If the lie is for selfish reasons, like getting a promotion, or getting noticed, or getting out of trouble, then meh, you suck. But little lies meant to help others, or make them feel better - not towards your own advantage, but just for that person's sake... those I dunno. The line there seems murky to me.
Sincerity, integrity, loyalty, compassion. Cornerstones of my identity.
...and yet when someone asks me how I'm doing, I can lie and lie and lie...
Saturday, October 21, 2006
On the Verge of Dreams (fictional scene)
A strange scene that popped into my head one bleary morning - thought maybe writing it down would help get it out of my brain.
_____
I was awake. Barely so, but awake. A part of me was surprised. The rest of me couldn't decide if it wanted to be annoyed or wryly amused, and so just settled for being weary. So very weary.
The lights had been dimmed in the room again. Even against my closed eyelids I could tell. Not completely dark, but not brightly lit either. Comfortingly dim. I'd been having trouble falling asleep in complete darkness, of late. It was funny, really, all things considered.
The darkness would come soon enough.
Tired still. Always tired. But the comfort of sleep slid away, and slowly my mind bestirred itself, prodding me.
Someone was in the room.
Weakly, I turned my head. Opened my eyes. Blinked. Tried to focus. But they'd taken my glasses again as I slept, so everything remained blurry and indistinct in my eyes. I grinned slightly. Even without them I knew who was there.
"Hi," I managed to whisper quietly.
"You're awake?" She leaned forward, took my hand. Her had was warm.
"Yeah. For a little bit." My mouth was dry. "Mom... can I have some water?"
She released my hand to pour some water, brought the flimsy plastic cup, and helped me to drink. I fought to keep the grimace off my face. The water was tepid, and tasted of staleness and plastic. Still, I managed to drink most of it.
"Thanks."
"Did you want more?"
"No, it's okay."
We sat for a while in silence.
"Are you cold?"
"No, mom. I'm okay." I thought a moment. "Maybe some TV." I reached for the remote, knowing it was somewhere...
"Here," she said, reaching over and handing it to me.
I took it and pressed the TV button. The little television up near the ceiling made a soft click-buzz, and the plastic control in my hand blared with sound as the screen slowly came to life. Hastily, I turned the sound down just a bit.
"What day is it?" I asked.
"Friday."
"Ah. Isn't that show on tonight?" I started flipping through the channels.
"Yes, but it won't be on for another hour or so."
"Okay. Maybe we can watch it together?"
Silence for a bit.
"That would be nice," she replied finally.
I reached for my glasses. Usually they were on the table.
"Here..." she handed them to me, letting me slowly unfold them and put them on myself. It took a bit.
She looked tired. Her eyes were puffy. "Mom, you need more rest," I admonished gently. "You should go home, sleep a little."
She just looked at me, then looked away. I closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to see her cry, just then.
We were both saved when dinner arrived. Such as it was. Chicken broth. Tasteless stuff. And cold, or at best rather tepid. Jello. She helped me sit up and eat some. I didn't really want any of it, but it took our minds off things. I ate as much as I could.
Afterwards, my eyes felt heavy again.
"Sorry," I yawned. "Getting tired again..."
"That's okay," she assured me. "Don't worry. Sleep if you need to."
"Thanks."
The greyness of sleep reached out to me again. I felt myself slipping into it, slowly. As it engulfed me gently, I heard words, soft words coming from the speaker still in my hand. I could almost understand, but the words jumbled all together, making no sense, forming no pattern. Like leaves falling, swirling in the wind. And for a moment, just briefly, the words came together in my mind
Vibrant colors fall,
Dancing in the autumn wind;
The dimming light fades.
Consciousness faded. But into greyness, not blackness.
Not yet.
__________
©Talathar, 10/2006
_____
I was awake. Barely so, but awake. A part of me was surprised. The rest of me couldn't decide if it wanted to be annoyed or wryly amused, and so just settled for being weary. So very weary.
The lights had been dimmed in the room again. Even against my closed eyelids I could tell. Not completely dark, but not brightly lit either. Comfortingly dim. I'd been having trouble falling asleep in complete darkness, of late. It was funny, really, all things considered.
The darkness would come soon enough.
Tired still. Always tired. But the comfort of sleep slid away, and slowly my mind bestirred itself, prodding me.
Someone was in the room.
Weakly, I turned my head. Opened my eyes. Blinked. Tried to focus. But they'd taken my glasses again as I slept, so everything remained blurry and indistinct in my eyes. I grinned slightly. Even without them I knew who was there.
"Hi," I managed to whisper quietly.
"You're awake?" She leaned forward, took my hand. Her had was warm.
"Yeah. For a little bit." My mouth was dry. "Mom... can I have some water?"
She released my hand to pour some water, brought the flimsy plastic cup, and helped me to drink. I fought to keep the grimace off my face. The water was tepid, and tasted of staleness and plastic. Still, I managed to drink most of it.
"Thanks."
"Did you want more?"
"No, it's okay."
We sat for a while in silence.
"Are you cold?"
"No, mom. I'm okay." I thought a moment. "Maybe some TV." I reached for the remote, knowing it was somewhere...
"Here," she said, reaching over and handing it to me.
I took it and pressed the TV button. The little television up near the ceiling made a soft click-buzz, and the plastic control in my hand blared with sound as the screen slowly came to life. Hastily, I turned the sound down just a bit.
"What day is it?" I asked.
"Friday."
"Ah. Isn't that show on tonight?" I started flipping through the channels.
"Yes, but it won't be on for another hour or so."
"Okay. Maybe we can watch it together?"
Silence for a bit.
"That would be nice," she replied finally.
I reached for my glasses. Usually they were on the table.
"Here..." she handed them to me, letting me slowly unfold them and put them on myself. It took a bit.
She looked tired. Her eyes were puffy. "Mom, you need more rest," I admonished gently. "You should go home, sleep a little."
She just looked at me, then looked away. I closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to see her cry, just then.
We were both saved when dinner arrived. Such as it was. Chicken broth. Tasteless stuff. And cold, or at best rather tepid. Jello. She helped me sit up and eat some. I didn't really want any of it, but it took our minds off things. I ate as much as I could.
Afterwards, my eyes felt heavy again.
"Sorry," I yawned. "Getting tired again..."
"That's okay," she assured me. "Don't worry. Sleep if you need to."
"Thanks."
The greyness of sleep reached out to me again. I felt myself slipping into it, slowly. As it engulfed me gently, I heard words, soft words coming from the speaker still in my hand. I could almost understand, but the words jumbled all together, making no sense, forming no pattern. Like leaves falling, swirling in the wind. And for a moment, just briefly, the words came together in my mind
Vibrant colors fall,
Dancing in the autumn wind;
The dimming light fades.
Consciousness faded. But into greyness, not blackness.
Not yet.
__________
©Talathar, 10/2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
Picking at Old Wounds
I don't know why I do it. But every now and again, I'll go and "check" on folks I once used to know, but resolved to walk away from for a variety of reasons. Mostly rather hurtful reasons. A few of the rather stupid mistakes I've made in the last 10 years or so.
...my god has it been so long...
I don't know why I do it, still. I know better. Really REALLY know better. I also know I won't ever go back. I'm too proud to let some things just pass, and too honest to claim it was a misunderstanding when I really don't think it was.
It's gone, it's over, I really should just let it go. And for the most part I do. Not turning around on what I've sworn to turn my back to.
...but sometimes I kinda sneak a glance through a mirror. Just to see.
Sometimes I need blinders, not mirrors.
...my god has it been so long...
I don't know why I do it, still. I know better. Really REALLY know better. I also know I won't ever go back. I'm too proud to let some things just pass, and too honest to claim it was a misunderstanding when I really don't think it was.
It's gone, it's over, I really should just let it go. And for the most part I do. Not turning around on what I've sworn to turn my back to.
...but sometimes I kinda sneak a glance through a mirror. Just to see.
Sometimes I need blinders, not mirrors.
Huh...?
World of Warcraft people keep complimenting me, and expressing admiration and stuffs.
...??
When did I get popular with people?
It always strikes me as odd to find out that people like me. Can't quite figure it out. I'm not cool, or hip, or even all that interesting. My life is rather boring, my interests are rather bland, my personality is bound up with a lot of angsty self-castigating issues and a lot of dark sarcasm, and at best I'm not the most annoying person in the world.
At best.
Yet cool people seem to like me. It boggles the mind.
A part of me is astonished, and rather flattered. The darker part of me sits wondering when the bottom is going to drop out from under me.
Issues. I have abandonment issues. I know that now. So what do I do? I run away. Before I can get abandoned. Or do something stupid, something preemptive, forcing people to turn away from me. Leaving me alone. Again.
And that dark corner of my soul wants me to be alone.
Where's my flashlight.
__________
It's election season. There's a sign on the corner near my work. It reads, "Vote to Support Mt. Hood Community College!"
...but it doesn't mention what initiative you should vote for, so that you can support said aforementioned college.
...umm... okay...
>_>
__________
Sometimes... sometimes pain lets you know you're still alive.
Other times, it lets you know you did something stupid.
And then there are the times that it's just there, annoying the hell out of you for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Thank goodness for meds. Where's my Advil.
__________
No, I don't make sense. Yes, I like it that way. Don't like it, go away. Don't make me shine my tiny mag-lite at you.
>_>
...??
When did I get popular with people?
It always strikes me as odd to find out that people like me. Can't quite figure it out. I'm not cool, or hip, or even all that interesting. My life is rather boring, my interests are rather bland, my personality is bound up with a lot of angsty self-castigating issues and a lot of dark sarcasm, and at best I'm not the most annoying person in the world.
At best.
Yet cool people seem to like me. It boggles the mind.
A part of me is astonished, and rather flattered. The darker part of me sits wondering when the bottom is going to drop out from under me.
Issues. I have abandonment issues. I know that now. So what do I do? I run away. Before I can get abandoned. Or do something stupid, something preemptive, forcing people to turn away from me. Leaving me alone. Again.
And that dark corner of my soul wants me to be alone.
Where's my flashlight.
__________
It's election season. There's a sign on the corner near my work. It reads, "Vote to Support Mt. Hood Community College!"
...but it doesn't mention what initiative you should vote for, so that you can support said aforementioned college.
...umm... okay...
>_>
__________
Sometimes... sometimes pain lets you know you're still alive.
Other times, it lets you know you did something stupid.
And then there are the times that it's just there, annoying the hell out of you for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Thank goodness for meds. Where's my Advil.
__________
No, I don't make sense. Yes, I like it that way. Don't like it, go away. Don't make me shine my tiny mag-lite at you.
>_>
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
*cough*
Tired of coughing. Is all I do lately. Contemplating going in and just manually removing the lungs so it stops trying to crawl up my esophogus.
Granted, it hasn't gotten so bad that my entire body clenches up with each cough, nor has my throat worked itself into a consistency slightly resembling ground meat. And my stomach is not experiencing sore muscle cramps from the excessive exercise of trying to aid in the escape of my lungs from their proper place in encased in my ribcage.
Yet.
But I sure am damn tired of it.
Yeah, I know. Go to the doctor. Too worried about being able to afford that right now. Not sure how much everything is going to cost. Dentist. Doctor. Eye doctor eventually. Meds. Possible tooth extraction and reconstructive surgery.
And it's slow at work. Too slow. Scarily slow. As in might-let-more-people-go slow. As in omg-what-am-I-gonna-do-now slow. As in possibly-time-to-go-home-as-a-failure slow. Next to that, self-inflicted lung removal seems like a pleasant afternoon do-it-yourself project.
*sigh*
Can't die yet, though. Gotta pay back the mom. Maybe later I'll have time.
Granted, it hasn't gotten so bad that my entire body clenches up with each cough, nor has my throat worked itself into a consistency slightly resembling ground meat. And my stomach is not experiencing sore muscle cramps from the excessive exercise of trying to aid in the escape of my lungs from their proper place in encased in my ribcage.
Yet.
But I sure am damn tired of it.
Yeah, I know. Go to the doctor. Too worried about being able to afford that right now. Not sure how much everything is going to cost. Dentist. Doctor. Eye doctor eventually. Meds. Possible tooth extraction and reconstructive surgery.
And it's slow at work. Too slow. Scarily slow. As in might-let-more-people-go slow. As in omg-what-am-I-gonna-do-now slow. As in possibly-time-to-go-home-as-a-failure slow. Next to that, self-inflicted lung removal seems like a pleasant afternoon do-it-yourself project.
*sigh*
Can't die yet, though. Gotta pay back the mom. Maybe later I'll have time.