Voice

-Randomness about my early 20s or how life hit me in the face-

I stopped talking for a while as if I did not speak about it, it wouldn't be real.  

I stopped talking because I did not want to explain to the world that our eyes are red but for different reasons.
That my chest feels heavy, as if my soul becomes a huge backpack of rocks that I drag daily around.

I stopped talking because I cannot explain this mental fog that gets me race half of the day to reach your start.

I stopped talking so nobody would look my way and when they did, I would reassure them that ‘No, no, it’s okay, see, I post cat pictures and regularly check my email, 

 I am an integral normal part of society’.

I stopped talking because having two jobs to survive and no hours to say hello to, seems a normal society norm for graduates gaining experience.

Who am I to say you elitist unpaying douches ‘Nobody can do this on a low income.’

I stopped talking because with each unpaid experience I felt worthlessness, as if my creativity is yours to outsource and it is my honour you picked me.

I stopped talking because I yelled, I cried and it didn’t mean anything to you as if I wasn’t there. As if we were strangers to you.

I stopped talking because every time I got my hope back and you drank it.

I stopped talking because the moment I grabbed you off the floor, I left myself there.

I stopped talking because you'd pick fights and get emotional like there was no legitimacy for my feelings, as if the one that cries out more, feels more.

I stopped talking because I carried both of us and I had no breath to spare.

I stopped talking because I was the only one that stood up when things were morally wrong at work and that made me different. A foreigner in many ways.

I started talking because you left and you took all of your luggage with you. 

I have room for myself now.

I started talking because, you ignorant ass, you do not talk or treat people like that.  Your mistreatment does not give you the right to mistreat. Your pain does not give you legitimacy to inflict pain and my morals are not debatable lines that can be stretched.

I am more than what your insecurities make of me.

I am light and fire and I burned myself by containing it inside.

I started talking because it’s more tiring to pretend you don’t come from a broken home.

I started talking because depression feels like death. And all his friends. But you knew this already, didn’t you?

I started talking because once you say things out loud they take shape and this polygon needs to change sides.

I started talking because there are thousands of children of alcoholic parents that go through similar experiences or worse and they never start talking again.

.  

1200 g ibuprofen

I feel cold. I don't remember much. There was a smell. A very sweet tone which came from your fingers, most likely one of your teas. I remember closing my eyes and then all vanished like it never was. Most probably I imagined everything. It has to be so. It is so, I am sure. I feel ever so cold ever since, like someone constantly leaves the window open and I cannot find for the life of me your blue knitted sweater. I must have imagined it as well. 

Red eyes, dark circles, red eyes, dark circles, red eyes, dark circles, dark circles, cigarette smoke and silence. 

Each fight, a layer of skin, each memory, peels within.

I have this very vivid dream of us at a metro station in Paris. I'm crying, you're smoking. You put it out and walk away. 

Nonesense. There is no smoking allowed at the subway.

 July wasn't a good month. Well, neither August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March and half of April. 

I think May should be good.

Let's not talk 2.0

Each night I gather all my parts and glue them up again. During the day nobody knows that I am missing limbs or hearts. 

There is a sweet misery in which I linger a bit too much at times when it comes to you. I like to spend now time at the train station. Listening to music, sipping my skinny hot chocolate and remembering all the times people came and left. The day my sister came and the days I commuted to London, the days you came from home and the day you left for Edinburgh. I remember that day because I remember the guy at the gates that was telling me that 'All will be well' Giggles. And you asking me constantly where did I get this from. 

I hope this it is better for you now. As for me, every other day, I carry you in my thoughts. Some days of friendship and understanding, some days of love and missing and others of annoyance and abandonement. I shut you out like a bad dream because sometimes your absence is too much too bare but I do understand its silence. I would not have much to say if we were talking. I would just tell you that.. I am scared.

All will be well and let's not talk because making it well takes time.

Mali says HI

and this is happening

9.10

Yesterday was a hard day. Just so. I have drowned myself in alcohol, drugs, people and sleep deprivation.
Yesterday was a hard day. I needed you next to me and the more I wanted to talk to you the more I felt sad. I know I am cheating by writing this because I know (hope) you will read it at some point.
Yesterday was a hard day. I have a million things that I wanted to share the only one that pops into mind now is that the whole album from Mumford and Sons makes me feel closer to you and that Twin Peaks will have a new season up next year.
Yesterday was a hard day. I scratch my desk not to directly write to you. Alex told me that we need time. That I would be so mean by doing that. And obviously it would be defying the whole purpose. Kitty shaped hole in my heart. Makes me smile and sad. I like that. I fully feel it. I feel empty and hopeful. I know you will end up hating me. I told you first loves do not last.


Yesterday was a hard day. You are my white picked fenced guy. I asked Alex if it's ok to still think that maybe in the future we might end up together. He told me that it is a nice thought and to feed on it. That it might not happen but if it makes me happy why not.


Yesterday was a hard day. First loves only shape you up for the next one. I am just a vessel for that.


Yesterday was a hard day. The more I want to talk to you the more I know not doing it is a right thing. You are my full stop. I wish we went out on dates. I wish I was awkward with you and you brought me flowers. Everything was so rushed. I wish I was better.


Yesterday was a hard day. If you take anything from this take my love for you and the fact that I want you to be happy. I want you to apply yourself to your passion and to be fearless to be that amazing magical kitty which you are. Share yourself with the world and take in only what you think is good for you. I want this to enable you to reach that point. I want this to enable me to reach that point.


Yesterday was a hard day. Maybe we will. I hope we will. I do. We will need some time. But I hope we will. And when and if we do I would like you to bring me a sunflower and take me out to dinner. Haha I know very exact.


Today is a hard day. I feel like all of sudden I do not have my best friend anymore. If you ever read this please send me your address so I can send you over some stuff.


Miau out

Ignorance

She planned ahead for a year, he said, "Let's play it by ear."
She didn't want him to run, he didn't want her to fear
Nobody said it'd be easy, they knew it was rough
But, tough luck
I fell in love today,
There aren't any words that you can say
That could ever get my mind to change
She's enough for me, she's in love with me
You're a doll, you are flawless
But I just can't wait for love to destroy us
I just can't wait for love
The only flaw – you are flawless
But I just can't wait for love to destroy us
I just can't wait for love
So, she put his heart in a bag, he wouldn't ask for it back
He didn't want her to cry, she didn't want to be sad
She said, "You better not leave me."
This shit'll be fucked for days and weeks and months, but...
Add it all up, I can find it
The problem with love is I'm blinded by
It rattles my lungs, but my mind is
Tangled between your little flaws
Your flaws, your flaws, your flaws
Wait for love, I won't wait for love
Wait for love, I won't wait for love
Wait for love

miaules

sketch

I could write a entire novel about that moment.

 I mischievously play it again and again in my mind as if everything stopped then and there,

As there were no more colors left to spare. 

Curiously enough, it seemed that only me was held in time, 

As everyone else moved with 66,600 miles per climb. 

I have watched you from afar for many rainy years: you, this perfect little aragement of atoms, always searching for your wrinkles,

 Me, this naive gathering of dead cells, always hiding my sprinkles. 

I know if I would get closer, you would scratch me with your smile,

 So, now, instead of sleep, I like to dream once in a while. 

I would draw you a lipstick letter 

And you would carve a little of your blue,

 I would wear only your favorite sweater,

 So people would see the artist in you. 

I could write an entire novel about that moment 

And maybe I should get a grip 

But you dissolved the alphabet by accident 

When you bit your lip.

splinters of hope

i like you and naps

black piano

Stephen kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Stephen's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

nemoisawsum

personal statement

Write on the skyline. Shout it from the rooftops. What in your mind may seem confusion and fear, naivity and distrust is actually quite simple: I am a douchebag.

 I am not nice. I am happy. I am not your friend. I am selfish. I am not your family. I do not care nor should you expect it, silly thing.

thankyou

truth

This is ..what happens to other people. You see it on the news, you know? Give it ..what..30 seconds of your time? Shake your head, go back to whatever stupid thing you where doing..washing dishes or putting away laundry. You never think it's gonna happen to you.

yes no maybe so.

To think of him in the middle of the day lifts me out of ordinary living.

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

confessions

I only kissed you 'cause I was drunk. I went along with it 'cause people told me I can't. I care much less then you think I do. I lied more than you.

home is wherever i'm with you

We’re not going to do this. I can’t share. I can’t catch up with you. I can’t talk. Because if I did…I would fall apart, and I don’t have time to fall apart. It’s not that I’m not happy to see you; I am. But I wish that you would go home so that the choice to talk and fall apart would go away.

smush

Because now gets ruined. Because it gets tainted with ifs and maybes and finicky i don't knows. Which is perfectly fine cause logically i understand it. In a fucked-up, cosmically-challenged, metaphorical way it makes sense. Until it doesn't. Until this very actual moment. Until when my soul just lies intoxicated on the floor, while this room gets filled up with so many people. So many but barely people.
It just stays still. Waiting for a now that doesn't exist. Keeping me awake just in case it might come up. It won't silly! So i'll selfishly erase this universe. Because if it's not there when i want it, it should not be at all.
Because this time, I'll ruin it.

sleeping pills 2.0

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

An you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”


“Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library.”

“A certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect.”

“Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to sleep through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won't be able to escape it. Still, you have to go there- to the edge of the world. There's something you can't do unless you get there.”

Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore

sleeping pills

“I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.”

Jonathan Safran Foer - Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

yandere

My lines are mine to own though they seem a bit blurred at times. I do that because i'm curios so i leave them at home sometimes in my little drawer next to a pair of penguin socks. I roam around freely into your world being amazed by all that you created. Seems like a little city all fashioned to work by itself and exactly in the middle i find you, all wrapped up in some glue trying to fix up the cracks of some house. You start explaining that it still needs finishing touches that is why you work all day long at it. We walk along the streets and you explain to me how naive i can be and how i should be done with my graceless heart. Cut it out and just restart. I can have all of this as well! I listen and i take notes. Well of course i would listen. Just look at all the amazing things you have surrounded yourself with. We laugh, we stare, we shut up and we lie. We're perfect like that. i like our fakeness cause i know it keeps us alive. People think that we're ugly but i somehow think that we're beautiful. I thank you for the tour and you graceously show me out.
As i reach back, i put my peguin socks on and redraw my lines. I leave a blank spot just in case you might come by but as i wake up in the morning you never do so i just close it back up again. Walk around and see you from afar pouring glue on new cracks. I smile and I think that maybe my lines would need some remodeling as well. You see me go along and think that you should buy more glue for tonight. Maybe tonight I'm going to actually hear your screams.

Later edit : movie marathons, blanky(z + purrito style), calimocho, icky bunk bed/ awesome double bed, icky morning liiiiight, laughter, geekiness, awckwardness, fighting on stupid things, spam on fb, too many documentaries, black, plans to destroy the world/take over it, pancake day is everyday, stolen glances make perfect carpet burns, mirror in behaviour, lotr - rampage in reading, hp, messed up (make up, life), lazy days, ignoring, too much or too little, never enough, damned if we do and damned if we don't, playing with our ghouls, tiaras.
/
Being with her I feel a pain, like a frozen knife stuck in my chest. An awful pain, but the funny thing is I'm thankful for it. It's like that frozen pain and my very existence are one.
The pain is an anchor, mooring me here.