The audience rises but they do not clap. Mutual understanding, general consensus. It was not an act, not a show, but beyond it. The curtains close and the silence fills the auditorium. She wanted more, the sound of breathing, echoes, shuffling footsteps but they remained still, the buzzing of minds almost audible.
On the verge of panic, waiting for the push or release of emotions, a sigh of relief but it did not come.
This room is too warm for such cold, lifeless bodies.
It was like this yesterday, and it will be like this tomorrow. Hold your breath and conceal your thoughts, but do not clap. Never clap.
No signs of affection in an open room.
Here it is, the book of life. Your life. Your birth and death, your number growing while the realization of the countdown strikes you. The obstacles, the excruciating moments were merely tools used to create the one memory you'll want to remember; life, as a feeling of warmth. The battle between dying and realizing you're slowly going every day is non-existent because, truth is, it doesn't matter.
Here it is, distributed to the people you know and the people you may never know. Open it up and feel the weights lift, absorb life as a happy ending. Your life is worth as much as your death so use your imagination. This is your canvas.. if you want it to be.
We'll overlook all the right and wrong, interpreted in whichever way you may, because we know that there's only one thing that matters: the end. It won't remind you of the details, the things you may or may not have done, because there's so much more to living than resembling these shapes thrown at us. It's a book that strives to convince you that everything in life is trivial but it's okay. It'll dig deep, carve its way into the back of your head, pull it out, and slap it onto sheets upon sheets of paper for the world to see.
And then you'll no longer be special, you wont feel like you're carrying the world on your shoulders because no one told you otherwise.
You'll just.. be.. because you'll realize that life is what you make it, your emotions are malleable..
Today sucked so I dug a grave for the future. Here lies everything you could have had but didn't. This city has been overrun by people like you and it's about time we smile and nod and wait for their graves to fill. Liquid horror, metaphorical blood shed while we wonder what it was all for and realize how pointless it is to even wonder when these people haven't an ounce of life.
We could sell this, bottle it up and ship it across countries and oceans instead of filling up empty graves. Let it free in unknown lands and the deepest of seas, shed every ounce we have and just be. I'm tired of the guess work and these newly discovered eggshells that I don't even want to bother trying to walk on.
Once you're done, you're done. Until you decide to shed, I'll be waiting here to bury you.
I'd appreciate some honesty once in a while.
Really, I don't understand how people can just sit there, pretend to care about you, and then lie to you. If you care about me, fucking tell me the truth.
It isn't fair, really. I've been told more times than I'd like to count in my life that I am naive and it's really getting to me now. I've been living so blindly, believing in the goodness of people and realizing that that isn't how life works, that you can't just be peachy keen all the time and expect others to follow because it just wont work.
That's probably why I'm so fucked up right now, so dead set on changing the world one emotion at a time, one care at a time, one fucking person at a time. For what? For suicide attempts and prescription pills and days that melt into one, sleepless nights?
I think I was more happier being miserable, more happier just wallowing deep inside myself and just being ALONE. All those nights I spent working, coming home and watching movies, not going out, not talking to anyone, looking like a fucking zombie.. those were MY days, MY comfort, and you can't even BEGIN to understand what goes on inside my head.
And for a couple of months, just a couple of fucking months I find some happiness, some innocence, and I feel carefree. I feel on top of the fucking world and I just want people to understand that it means so much to me, the fact that I haven't been happy in a very very very very VERY long time, the fact that Windsor has literally saved my life.
There's a reason I can't be with the people I was once before. You don't understand what it feels like to lock yourself up inside your room and try to bleed to fucking death, to hate yourself SO MUCH that you don't even want to exist anymore, to constantly fight with yourself and be driven by anxiety and constant fear and paranoia. Especially when your surroundings played a huge role in it.
Do you know why I keep busy every day? Because I can't stand to be alone with my head. I just can't fucking do it. I wait for these drugs to kick in and I feel like actually doing something, being somewhere, FEELING something greater than myself.
It's a constant battle, enjoying and despising the depression at the same time really tears you in two. Especially since it's been going on for almost 10 years.
I don't know, maybe I just can't stay in one place for too long. I'm okay now, I feel okay, I don't know what the point of this was even but I have a headache and a need to vent so here it is. I will leave well enough alone if you just tell me to, so I don't have to wonder what the hell I'm doing wrong.
