leave me alone, i am self diagnosing my mental illnesses
my god is my imaginary friend and i have known him since we were both kids being brought up by distant parents with shaky hands, empty hearts and heavy heads. we taught them compassion as we learnt it.
I think the fast paced society we live in currently has brainwashed me into thinking i can upgrade myself and my life just as fast as when i restart my computer or phone. I have forgotten the natural cycles of life… how the moon takes her time to be full or how the crops take their time to grow their fruits.
there are days when my name lingers on the inside of your mouth; too reluctant to be explicit, too obvious to be discreet.
and it makes both of us tiptoe around each other till you say, "one last time" and spend the night in my dad's t-shirt that i always forget to bring back home. we have a hard time returning things, you and i. we make a home out of borrowed items because the reality of owning something that's just ours is scary; we are not who we wanted to be and if any of us got any closer to what we prayed for, i am not sure we'll recognize what we see. right now, i see you with my blurry vision because i can't find my glasses again and you have no idea how to look for things. you once told me you only started missing your grandma after she was buried. you do that; confess bizarre things just after coming. i don't mind it but i think i love you only when you are falling asleep beside me. the rest of the time we spend together, i nurture a mild hatred towards you so that we don't promise each other a forever we will grow to resist. well, even our hypotheticals are a calculated risk. there are days when your name lingers on the roof of my mouth so i just shove my tongue down yours so that we can never talk about anything real; reality bites, i'm sure you've noticed.
Remember when Fleabag said, ""I want someone to tell me what to wear in the morning. I want someone to tell me what to wear EVERY morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat. What to like, what to hate, what to rage about, what to listen to, what band to like, what to buy tickets for, what to joke about, what not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in, who to vote for, who to love and how to tell them."
The last line made me think about this a lot. It's okay to be dependent for a bit, rest ourselves on someone else's shoulder without feeling like we are living a cliché.
actually, growing up is feeling like i turned sixteen two days ago. i’ve been eighteen for years. fifteen year olds seem so young. wasn’t i fifteen just a few weeks ago? all my friends and i are still twelve. i’m closer to thirty then to being a baby. i never got to be a kid. i never grew past eight. i can’t talk to my mom. i want to sit in her lap forever. the week is going by so slow. an entire year has passed. i want to decide everything for myself. i need someone to tell me exactly what to do.
what if you wore a shirt that featured a picture of you trying to claw your way out of the shirt with a horrid desperate expression and the text "THAT'S NOT ME THAT'S NOT ME I'M TRAPPED IN THE SHIRT"
who cares how you talk about love? be passionate about it if it lets you unleash the rotting fury on a world that isn't even alive enough to see the colour on your face when you are in love; be bitter if your broken heart pricks you from the inside; be warm about it if it kisses you goodnight; be cold if you are paralyzed by it. tell the world how you feel if that makes you feel lighter. pull a frank gallagher on your love life. be reckless.
my heart is fluent in a tongue my mind can't translate. so i lay still on my bed, experiencing a wildness that can breathe me back to life from beyond my grave. tonight i believe in spirits. maybe i am a ghost when i fall asleep; anything is possible this very moment because it is nothing like the one it succeeds nor like the one it will precede. the future hadn't been created when i wrote the last sentence and now i am in it. Ah, to be alive.
and it pisses me off to not have more than 24 hours in my day. i want to watch every movie that made you feel something, every song that gave you a serotonin boost, every book that broke to make you, every poem that made you fall in love a little more, every fuckin thing you ever laid your eyes on- i want to be a part of that. it pisses me off to not have known you when we both were kids: untainted, innocent, fragile but now that we are older, do you believe me?
repeat after me: i will not make myself small for other people's convenience.