I love you!
Who are you trying to convince?
I love you!
Who are you trying to convince?
I said awhile back I’d be working on some music things. Well, I’ve been working on some music things. Lots of experimentation, dark tones, and most importantly to me, interesting vocal tracks based off the work I’ve been doing on Cryptic Dreams.
Within the next few months, I will be releasing my first ever three lyrical tracks here. My projects are beginning to swing into full gear. I hope to give the world something interesting. I am excited!
I’ll be posting a little more often as I get back into my writing thing, so look forward to that! Thanks to those of you who’ve been sticking with me and giving me feedback on my writing, it’s meant a lot to me. ❤
Told to “not hold back my emotions”.
“don’t bottle things up!”
No, you don’t want to actually see that.
You don’t know
don’t know what you’d be in for
you’d be in for a lot of hurt.
It’s not worth it, okay?
“It’s unhealthy! You’re damaging yourself!”
“…I don’t believe you.”
What do you want me to say? I’m fine, let it be.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t believe you.”
And why not? Why do you not believe me? I contradict myself? I contradict myself. I’m sorry. I’m okay. Believe me? You don’t believe me. I want you to believe me. Do you not trust me? I need you to believe I’m okay because I’m okay. I know I said I wasn’t okay but I’m okay. Believe me, I am. I’m okay. Believe me.
“I don’t know?”
What the hell do you want me to say?
Fine, you want me to not hold back my emotions? Fine.
I’m sick of being told that I can control my emotions by a girl who’s never suffered a single hardship of her own, sick of her deciding that all my problems can be fixed that easily. I’m sick of that guy who expects everything and returns nothing. I’m sick of my body and how little it will let me sleep, mainly because I stay up to four in the fucking morning trying to keep everything from falling apart. Why the hell doesn’t anyone believe me? You make me doubt myself!
I’m sick of my stomach refusing every scrap of food I give it, and sick of people around me acting like it’s no big deal. Sick of society saying that every symptom I suffer is a sign of the season, that is to say, an unavoidable side-effect of adolescence, when I know that’s bullshit and a cover for their own insecurity. Since when the hell did everyone stop listening? Do they even hear at all? Why the hell doesn’t anyone believe me? They make me doubt myself!
I’m sick and tired of a lot of things. I’m sick. I’m tired. Part of me wants to be screamed at and the other wants to scream back, but I hold back, and I stand back, hoping these urges will back off. Spoiler alert: they won’t.
You don’t believe me. And I’d say “I don’t FUCKING care anymore!”, but that would be a lie, because I care way more than nothing. I care a hell of a lot about how much I hurt, that’s a fact. Maybe I am just a selfish individual who has no thought or care for anyone else and every single apparent display of such empathy is just an emotionally abusive, manipulative attempt to gain control of everyone around me.
Because maybe in my head it’s all me, me, me. Shut up. Calm down. How can you ask that? Just shut up. Stop yelling. Stop fucking shouting, I can’t hear anything else. I want to hear nothing. I want to stop feeling. Be numb. Shut up, that’s ridiculous. Kill me. Grow the fuck up. Who are you talking to? Do you even believe me? Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Believe me. Belie//ve me. Believe me. B&&eliev&[help]e me. Be[please help me///]lie^ve m\\e. Belieeeeeeeeee//////eeeeeee/eeeeeeeee///////eeeeee////eeeee\\:####
[INSTABILITY DETECTED. ENDING PROCESS…]
[PROCESS TERMINATED TO PREVENT FATAL ERROR.]
[REBOOT FROM LAST SAVE?]
[YES] [NO] [DEBUG]
[IDLE SHUT DOWN…]
He’s swimming through debris,
Where, where, where is she?
Finding little relics
In his memory
Of what he remembers
Her soul has ought to be
But she has dug too deep,
Too deep within the sea…
Hours pass, darkness looms…
Giving up… breathlessly…
Perfection is mundane.
Imperfection is what allows for beauty.
Love everything about yourself
Even the imperfect.
For a moment, we let go of everything and just felt something we’d hadn’t allowed ourselves to feel in what felt like an eternity. For a moment, you and I let each other smile. We were awkward, but we were awkward together. And that counts for a lot. For a moment, you and I felt each other across the physical distance, through energies. For a moment… for… a moment…