It just hits you all of the sudden. There’s no warning, no polite notice left scrawled on a post-it saying ‘hey, i‘m going to fuck up your life in 2.3 seconds‘, no nothing. It just walks into your life, totally unannounced like some old ‘friend’ who just comes around and decides to live on your couch for some undetermined amount of time/forever.
Unannounced, unwarned. Unless you count that feeling when you wake up and there’s that pit of dread in your stomach, like you swallowed a bowling ball, and you just feel like absolute shit. But that’s every day for me.
So, you’re just going along on your own business and out of fucking no where it smacks you on the head. It feels like you just got hit by an invisible freight train. I look down excepting to see the damage, see the bruises and breaking bones and blood, but there’s nothing there.
On the outside, my body is totally fine. No one is going to stop and help you up because you didn’t really fall. No one can see it, even though something just completely broke your insides apart.
You realize then that you are completely and totally
It’s not that I plan to leave. It’s ‘just in case’. Just in case I have to go back to the Hospital for Souls. Just in case I get tired of it here and want to go somewhere else. That kind of thing.
I’m stupidly impulsive, which is mostly why I get into the messes I do. Deciding to go to _____ in middle of the night and not tell anyone. Deciding to lay on the kitchen floor in my underwear and sing Dresden Dolls, loudly, off tune. Deciding not to eat for a few days. Deciding to play with some sharp thing.
Why?, everyone always asks. Why not? It’s all great fun. Life is not interesting when still. Stillness means twitching fingers, mind racing, thoughts jumbling. Stillness is death and I don’t want to die, just be on the very brink; teetering.
So, why? I’m just bored, I guess. I can imagine the faces when I say that. Mouth agape, eyebrows perched high, astonishment. youwerebored?
To tell the truth, yeah. Curiosity killed the cat and all. Boredom? Take a razorblade with a very fine shine to it and draw on your skin. Buy lovely foods, stuff yourself, throw up as quick as you ate. Don’t sleep or eat for a few days and feel the race of mania in your veins, colouring everything electric and so interesting. Drive your mind to places, bad places, and see how fast you can run when it all starts chasing you. See if you can escape.
It’s in human nature to test yourself to see how much you can take. Explore the edges of what is safe. Teeter over a high cliff and see how far you can lean without falling. It’s normal to push boundaries, probing and feeling. Except, most people have that silly, nagging bit of self preservation. I don’t. It occurs to me that I’m not superhuman but it hardly matters.
Feeling like you can fly and actually being able to fly still produce the same thoughts.
Unannounced, unwarned. Unless you count that feeling when you wake up and there’s that pit of dread in your stomach, like you swallowed a bowling ball, and you just feel like absolute shit. But that’s every day for me.
So, you’re just going along on your own business and out of fucking no where it smacks you on the head. It feels like you just got hit by an invisible freight train. I look down excepting to see the damage, see the bruises and breaking bones and blood, but there’s nothing there.
On the outside, my body is totally fine. No one is going to stop and help you up because you didn’t really fall. No one can see it, even though something just completely broke your insides apart.
You realize then that you are completely and totally
alone.
---
For as long as I can remember I’ve kept a packed bag by my door. A few sketchbooks, a notebook, a pair of jeans, some shirts, sweatpants, socks, underwear, that kind of stuff. It’s not that I plan to leave. It’s ‘just in case’. Just in case I have to go back to the Hospital for Souls. Just in case I get tired of it here and want to go somewhere else. That kind of thing.
I’m stupidly impulsive, which is mostly why I get into the messes I do. Deciding to go to _____ in middle of the night and not tell anyone. Deciding to lay on the kitchen floor in my underwear and sing Dresden Dolls, loudly, off tune. Deciding not to eat for a few days. Deciding to play with some sharp thing.
Why?, everyone always asks. Why not? It’s all great fun. Life is not interesting when still. Stillness means twitching fingers, mind racing, thoughts jumbling. Stillness is death and I don’t want to die, just be on the very brink; teetering.
So, why? I’m just bored, I guess. I can imagine the faces when I say that. Mouth agape, eyebrows perched high, astonishment. youwerebored?
To tell the truth, yeah. Curiosity killed the cat and all. Boredom? Take a razorblade with a very fine shine to it and draw on your skin. Buy lovely foods, stuff yourself, throw up as quick as you ate. Don’t sleep or eat for a few days and feel the race of mania in your veins, colouring everything electric and so interesting. Drive your mind to places, bad places, and see how fast you can run when it all starts chasing you. See if you can escape.
It’s in human nature to test yourself to see how much you can take. Explore the edges of what is safe. Teeter over a high cliff and see how far you can lean without falling. It’s normal to push boundaries, probing and feeling. Except, most people have that silly, nagging bit of self preservation. I don’t. It occurs to me that I’m not superhuman but it hardly matters.
Feeling like you can fly and actually being able to fly still produce the same thoughts.
Very familiar :/
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