20 май, 2014

broken shreds of me

It's been quite the emotional weekend with me having to bite the inside of my lips not to cry but that's a confession for another time. I just love my sanity put into question when I read something and I relate so much that my skin aches while I'm reading. That's the kind of book I'd like to write - one that drives you crazy and begs you to read it, to never stop reading, to want more. The book is "Entangled" by Cat Clarke. Well, I certainly don't feel ready to leave the world of insanity aside and get back to reality with all the exams coming up, but what choice do I have with the Syntax midterm in a day. Still, I can feel the need to do some drinking and writing in a Grace way because I feel like I could use the crying and the realisations that have been stalking me, making it hard for me to breathe at times and giving me the strongest desire to rip the skin off my body, or more like all the layers, masks, skins... I look back at those oh, so distant times when my biggest wish was to ask for the world and have it actually be a person. I look at myself and see all the cracks in all of it. Well, look at all the good it's done me. I sure got what I deserved. I am sure to get even more of that for all the pain I've cost. I will forever be haunted by my own doings because I somehow managed to create my own personal hell right here on earth. And I deserve it all. Because it might seem like it's all okay, but it sure as hell isn't. And I should have known better! I should never have been so stupid, naive, selfish, teen, young, careless. Only I did care. I do care. I care and it may kill me, but I will use the blood on my skin when there is no more ink to fill the papers and I will gladly accept all the circles of hell I'm headed for, as long as I have the strength to write it all down. Not that it will make it all go away. But I must at least try till I still have the sanity to do so.

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