Fake Fake Fake
Disclaimer : Discussions of violence, gore and distressing subjects ahead, be warned
This is something I wrote when I was in a kind of mood yesterday, but didn't post it, so here's that, it probably doesn't make any sense since it's all a jumbked mess
Fake, it was all fake, undoubtly it was all fake
I can feel the rage and anger course through my body, feeling the fear and sorrow bubbling up down my spine and into the nearest reaches of my body, it's overwhelming, yet dangerous
The way a skin would peel at the sensation of a knife cutting away at it in rapid succession, where nothing is left but the course veins and and pus underneath, as blood pools over and, covering the surface of the flesh beneath
Oh how I desire to rip everything off my body, the intestines squirm out from my body and heart stabbed through the middle, until the blood flows no more, and the way the body pulses to feel some sembelance of life again, but to no avail, as it is ripped apart over and over, organs ripped from the veins connecting to it, leaving bile and marrow in it's wake, as the body pools with blood and various other fluids
Ripping the cervix right out of the body and pulling at it, a helpless thing for anyone to bear, as thoughts of wild vigour emerge in order to escape and run away, to do something, as the organ is ripped from your body, your own blood on their hands
As you are left bare, and are expected to act like nothing ever happenes, nothing happened, nothing happened at all
And as you limp through life wondering what went wrong, you go through it by trying to ease the pain as much as possible, by covering up the wounds, distracting yourself from the pain, and never telling anyone about it, in your head, it never happened, it never did
Until you realize what actually happened and suddenly, the blood starts pooling again and you try to stop it from spreading, trying to stop others from seeing the deep wounds on your body, try to distract from the pain by hurting yourself in other places on your already injured body
Until there's no more space, and at this point you will have to speak up, even if it kills you a litrle just to be open and honest about it
Because what's worse than admitting to yourself that, it, actually happened, and that you had to handle all of that yourself, and no one was there to help or guide you during the worst time of your life, as you retch and cough, a reaction from pent up rage, frustration and anger
he sickening feeling of arms grabbing at your body, pulling and twisting, ready to feast on whatever remains, as you patch up more of yourself, the more it spills, the more people get attracted, and the more you have to patch to prevent others from finding out
The idea of fakeness is horrifying, when there is a problem, and when that problem becomes apparent, most would try to tackle the problem and fix it
But what about just, leaving it to fester and just pretending nothing ever happened
Like nothing. ever. happened
Nothing happened? Oh what a relief, I almost thought I was imagining being miserable, well I guess I'm okay now!
Things like that would fuck up anyone, and that's probably what myself up more
The way everyone just pretends everything is fine sickens me, It enrages me, how they can brush aside something as trivial as that
Because in the long run, no one actually really cared, they cared only for an image, and that's all that was important right?
What a bliss, what a dream, I wonder how much it would've taken for me to actually snap
It's exhausting, to maintain so much and yet so little, again there are times where I feel like I'm whining and crying like a baby to be seem as a victim, but I don't know
There are other parts where I wince and feel like I'm in danger everytime something mundane happens, and it's still something that happens, as I assume the worst case scenario can happen at any point, and I have no control over it in the longrun
At this point in time, I've completely given up trying to be what everyone wants me to be, it doesn't bother me anymore, and it shouldn't bother them either if they really did care
I have lost the need to care, to be kind, to be loyal, I can't take that anymore, I can't stay like it, and so I won't
There is a life ahead much better then whatever the hell happened in the past, I'm certain there is
And I hope at that time in life, I learn that being honest about struggles, and being honest about how fucked up everything is, and how life sucks, and how family can suck, is the biggest gift in the world
Because brutal honesty is so much better than blissful ignorance, a dishonesty that can forever scar you as a person
Everyone needs to accept that things suck sometimes and life is hell, only then will you have a healthy base for what an actual life will look like, as you understand the ups and downs
It may suck, but it's alot better than pretending that everything is okay, which fucks you up even more in the future
And I hope that's the kind of view I also learn as well, one day
Whatever I guess, I'll just hope for the best
- Murr
(Note : The song is Calm from the Omori Ost, 135th track)