By who

What I had done to someone once has been done to me. If only I was younger these wounds would heal with time. I have been humiliated and raped of my self respect by she who I love. Today I know I am destined to be alone and I accept my fate but fear that facade of happiness I can wear no more. I have been wronged yet somehow it was all my fault, for letting blood amble through my heart that whispered only her name for years. Why was I born so vulnerable to her? I thought I would lose faith in God if I was forsaken again, but now I know he is there, punishing me for my sins and if I could i would ask him just one question.. was hell not enough for me?

Sorry someone, for pasting these lines here where they don't belong. I only wanted to put your words of harsh truth in a place where they could be cherished, by me at least. No, I do not scoff at your misfortune, nor do I find pleasure in making foolish show of your words that sting me deeper than you think they do... for reasons that I know you can guess. Nostalgia? A tang of regret perhaps? Maybe even a tiny sadness of that which I lost. I could have saved you. You chose not to let me, and I chose to let you not let me.

I know I am in no way concerned with your predicament, nor am I in the least bit in any position to do you any good or even harm at this point. I'm just an outsider. An outsider who knows you from the inside. An outsider who has been down the road you so recently visited.

I sound like a romantic fool who was once or still is involved somehow in this story... but that is not my intention. Maybe at this point, if you ever chance to read these meaningless words... just maybe, I could be your friend like I never was before. I wish I could be the shoulder you would cry on, the one you would lean on. For what is left from after we ceased to 'know' each other. I still know you. I want to be that masked figure who makes it so that you never remember all the pain that you went through... the one that leaves silently.... still masked.... once the deed is done. You are my child. My child that I crave to protect. Motherly, huh? ;) Ring a bell?

i need a hug..

:(

No U-Turns...

Hazy memories are all I've got left. I know most of the time I write from a third person perspective, but today I choose to write as myself, for myself and about myself. Why? Ummm... well, because I'm tired of explaining my twisted theories and philosophies and feelings from a universal point of view. I am not universal, why should my thoughts be? Time to become selfish... Let's see how well that goes for ME... hopefully as well as it goes for the rest of the selfish, unfeeling world. Yes... I am a bitter, bitter woman. No shit, Sherlock (:

I'm stuck in a moment in my life that I know everyone has been stuck in at some point in their lives or the other. But somehow, I feel it more. Why? Because I'm being selfish about my feelings today ofcourse... duh (: Plus, it's evident that I have lost all significant traces of a sense of humor too... even I don't feel like laughing at my own lame jokes today. *sigh*... wazzzAaaa? Okay, sorry. Wazza doesn't belong in a blog of such seriousness as my own. It belongs in my so-called 'real' life only, where my friends, family and other loved ones are the rulers and I am their puppet left to laugh at everyone's jokes, look out for everyone's feelings, and basically be a good little dog who can't really do much more then the occasional *grin* and the adoring looks when someone chances to pat me as they continue along their own pretty ways. Woof...

I'm standing in the middle of a whirlwind. Everything has gone so bizzarely wrong that I'm crouching down low in a circle of silence and emptiness where the world of people around me is revolving at a dangerously close proximity to my hiding place... bustling with activity, buzzing with the harsh words and bitter realities that life has offered me. Numbness. Is this what it means? When you're waiting for that disturbing circle of activity to slowly ease its way elsewhere and just... leave you alone? When all your life you've been the one that no one has paid attention to, no one has looked out for, no one has cared much for preserving the feelings of... and all of a sudden, when you want everyone to just leave... they all care all of a sudden? In all the wrong ways? And you find yourself... not appreciating the uncalled for concern.

I'm crouched down in my cave. I've been here so many times before. The walls that once so disturbingly echoed back all my screams of anguish, all of a sudden possess a glow of comfort. The tattered remnants of my memories that once brought tears to my eyes every time I chose to look upon them with loving eyes that once held a pool of longing for them, hold little meaning anymore. I scoff. I scoff in the faces of all those who were never there. I scoff at the times when I cried and nobody saw the tears that they are fighting so hard to keep away from my eyes today. I scoff at yes... God too. It seems as though it's a little late for You to realize I didn't deserve what you gave me back then. Is this the best You can do to make it up to me?

In my solitude, I have found eternal bliss. Get away from me, world. If the roads of my life should offer me a u-turn now that would have been a more-than-welcome blessing not even 2 days ago... I would reject it this moment and never regret my actions thereafter for once in my life. World, go away... I don't need you anymore (;

21 and shrinking

There has come a point in my 21 years where I've reached the conclusion that life has nothing left to offer me of great significance. They say that experience enriches your life... but I've reached a point where I've pretty much experienced, re-experienced and re-re-experienced just about everything that ever could have held meaningful importance in my life to begin with. So where do I go from here? There is no forward... there is no sideways.... no two experiences can run parallely to one another in terms of thrill, excitement, glamor, ecstacy, even misery. It's true isn't it... that even misery holds its own shiny new thrill. Somehow poetry just can't summarize that thrill anymore. Poetry that makes sense only to myself and not to anyone else... poetry that no one can relate to, simply due to the complexity of my own thoughts is just... meaningless. Meaningless to the world... and so the purpose is more or less feigned of even publicizing it to the world by posting it in my little meaningless blog. So I choose to write... to write down every thought that enters my labyrinth of a brain. Because as little as it may be... who knows? Maybe my words can touch someone's heart... and who knows, they may even reach the very people in my life that are the cause for these words, and this depth... when it visits me.