"These words you read are my diary - screaming out loud. Here, my mind roams free"

Thanks a lot, I’ve been disadvantaged from the start.
constricted the veins heading straight to my head,
rerouted the blood to my heart instead.
I am brain dead, thinking strictly in blues and reds.
oh, I’m in enough trouble,
I’m in trouble once again

Dear mom, I know I have yet to mention one thing to or about you here on this diary of mine but I feel the need this very moment as I type. I know most of my problems probably arise from sensitive memories and sympathetic feelings towards dad and how ill-fated he has become over the years since we left without him knowing late that one night, just before the sun rose. You didn’t pack our things, or tell us what was happening or why we had to get up and into the car from our beds. To be completely honest, I only really remember three things about that night. One, I asked you where we were going, two, I asked you why daddy wasn’t coming, three, I watched the house I grew up in get smaller and smaller as we drove away into the night - only then I was certain I would soon return, but I was wrong. Oh, I guess I also remember never getting an answer to the same two questions I asked about a dozen times. I didn’t mean too, I was just confused and I am sorry if they tugged and ripped away at your heart….

I know how hard it must have been to finally gather up enough courage, or even find enough strength to do what you did. Even if it took years on top of years for me to fully understand why. Why you felt as though it was the best, why you wanted to take my little sister and I away from the demons he was playing with, why you had to break more than one heart just to protect the ones you and your very “soul mate” created. We all suffered, we all realized, we all had bruises upon our hearts. But we managed to stitch them up and move on with just a few burns scarred into our memories. Every now and again we become emotional and distraught feelings get the best of us, but it’s normal, I think….a natural part of healing. I just want to thank you for trying to hide us from that evil. Things that small children shouldn’t see, shouldn’t know of, should never have to endure. However, when visits began and you were so far away; we were exposed without your knowing, to things you tried so hard to steer away from us. I’ve seen things I swore to god I never wanted to see again, but did time and time again. I’ve heard things, done things, felt things that I have never before felt in my life. So many abhorrent emotions jumbled up inside me all at once, emotions I never knew existed. They made me tremble to the knee leaving me only wanting to curl into a dark corner and stare at the walls, lifeless - which I have, more times than I’d like to admit. Soon after, I found myself facing demons of my own. Different demons than that of dads but similar in the sense that they too consumed me entirely, grasping their devilish fingers around my neck without one ounce of resentment. Snickering, gnarling, laughing at my despair. This is the way I truly felt. How disheartening and truly unfair it is that any person should have to experience that type of pain or feeling. After a while it numbs…you become so use to it that it doesn’t shake you like it did in the beginning. That is the point where it becomes dangerous, like snake venom. Once you’ve fallen that far it’s a long ways out before you’re able to see the light again…trust me, but I did it and I feel as though I have grown taller than my enemies. Or at least I’d like to think so, cause every now and then I still feel terribly small whenever my head works too hard but it’s something I can escape from, instead of allowing it to swallow me whole. I know I am hardly capable of half the damage that I would like to do but if I had the change, I swear I’d rip every single malignant thing in existence into a million shreds and burn them till they’re ash with a smile upon my face.


Mom, you’re the reason I am as hard headed as I am, as will hearted as I am, as willing to fight whatever stands in my way as I am and as strong as I am. Dad, he made me strong as well except in opposite ways. Gave me strength in the sense that many of the things he has put me threw have made me want to turn the other direction from what my eyes didn’t like seeing. From what my mind didn’t like feeling…from wanting only happiness and clear skies instead of darkness and disarray. How fortunate of I to have achieved that, many fall servant to those kinds of things. Left to forever be imprisoned by their malicious games. But you, you really have your head on straight. You may have showed your demons a few times too many as well, or even did or said things that truly stabbed holes straight threw my chest and your drinking was out of control for the longest time but I think, maybe it was to dull the pain. To help forget? To help ease your way through an abusive relationship with a man you only had around in order to fill a void that formed the second you left dad. It hurt me badly to watch how all of that changed the person you were into someone entirely different, but when you were sober, I was still able to notice the same mom I’ve always loved. Then of course, after your heart attack and losing your memory for those few months, unsure if you would live or die….I really did feel like I had lost everything because as much as you also put me through you were my main back bone. You know, sometimes I really wish that none of this had ever happened, and sometimes I think maybe it was for a reason or maybe even meant to be in order to help shape us into exactly who we have become today. Every event, every victorious step up this rigid mountain of life and every bitter avalanche slide down….It happens all the time, everywhere. Just depends on how you take on the situations you’re dealt.

Just letting my mind roam freely, excuse my jabber: Most everyone truly believes they possess some form of unique individuality. Unfortunately, the terms “unique” and individuality” have been misshapen and transformed into a million completely opposite perspectives than what they initially were meant to describe. This basis often leads to an overwhelming amount of misunderstanding and improper outlooks on each expression, these indiscreet, imitative beings express themselves in ways they think may differentiate their existence from a crowd but end up just blending in more and more the harder they try. Unoriginal, thieves of another souls, mind and personal thoughts. Hissing them ear to ear like wild fire as if they were their own. They are reused, recycled, wasted, indisposed with lies and dwell off their own ego. Tasteless, heartless, starved of vestal elements that give peculiar yet Sui generous sense to each of our working minds that we other wise would normally inherit from the very totemic microbes of which we were first invigorated. Pure inspiration derives from ones very subconscious thought, a highly potent sedative state of awareness from which you receive your inner most deepest inspiration, thoughts and creativity, whilst only just momentarily stuck in this sort of quixotic “limbo” somewhere in between what’s real and what isn’t. The very few whom have actually touched and tasted this rarity; They are wanderlust. Misguided ghosts, fated to journey the paths unwritten in search of their own purpose, the very meaning of why they’re here now at this very moment in time breathing, existing. Exploring the depths of the unimaginable, poking, prodding, picking apart piece by piece insoluble questions in relation to the mysterious facts of life itself in order to just attempt to seek out any answers to things like why we live only to die and rot back into the earth from which we were first created. The things we probably shouldn’t be wondering, the things we quite possibly shouldn’t ever know yet can’t help but allow curiosity to take utter control, constantly bending around the fragile balance of a cycle we, more than likely, were just not meant to know of.

We use to be so close, now I can’t help but fear you’re drifting so far away from me. All the times you actually were around, you made the best of every situation…you taught me to see the world through a whole different way - different than the rest. You taught me to gaze curiously at the star speckled night sky and think about 100 million different things I other wise would have never originally thought to even think of. These wonderful magnificent things. You taught me to question, to wonder, to explore every aspect of my mind. You took me on adventures all the while you reminisced your past and shared stories no one else cared to listen to, but I loved every minute, every word you spoke. Just simple things that really got me to start expanding my mind about every spec of detail to this world we live in. As silly as I may sound, or to you what I say may not have seemed that way at all; but to a small girl growing up, those “little” things meant so much more to me than you could ever imagine. From the very depths of my heart, where the loudest beat rumbles like thunder casting out a constant wave of rhythm through my body, is where I keep those memories that preciously haunt me to this day. Working together symbiotically, always coursing, always there. And all though it’s times like this I wish so badly to just re-live one of them, I know I never will. Years have come between us, however I still feel that bond every now and again. Except it’s a little dismantled here and there because you have changed. Your mind isn’t where it use to be and it sickens me to the core to wonder if you’ll ever be the same even after being told you hate the person you use to be. I don’t understand why, because that person was so beautiful and intelligent. Just misunderstood and often dealt a unlucky set of cards more often than anyone else may have. I truly believe that what has led you to where you are now should give you strength to walk away from the darkness you feel you want to just let consume you, but don’t ever let it. Life is all about trial and error. Your mistakes mean you are only human. While you’re out there wandering through the webs you’ve weaved, where ever you are…..think of me, as I know you do and find your self once again.

        And in the end; “m’épargner de mes désirs” - I am only human.

Is it fair to say that i don’t know how much more  of this i can take? or
should i fake a smile, echo the same old lies; just pretend the darkness following me will go away?..everything seems to me, a never ending misery, a constant cycle of vicious illusions and mindless games. Don’t try to change this troublesome charade. I’ve tried, I’ve tried again. I’ve wrestled with my demons and fought back as hard as i could only to bruise my fists and fall face first in defeat.

I’ve played with fire and I got burnt, the scars, they never fade, yet show themselfs vividly upon each hand.  forever reminding me of all the times, the useless words and spoken ryhmes of fallen truths and tarnished dreams I once believed.

my spine is now this twisted mess. crippling me in every sense. I guess it’s just a consequence for always losing my wars. chaos courses though my veins, constricting my heart, n every vein. I try so hard but it remains - tattered thoughts of reason trying to cease what’s creeping. This thing inside me; an eternal desolate hole of dissary and sorrowful sadness, the very thing that will bring you madness. Keep your hopes high so it won’t swallow, one quick step back before it fallows.