In memory of a nobody

For you

2009-07-18T13:42:00.000+03:00

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through

In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children's carousel
And The chestnut trees
The wishing well

And I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
And everything that's bright and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

Every day is exactly the same

2009-05-30T03:32:00.001+03:00

I believe I can see the future
Cause I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
But then again
That might have been a dream
I think I used to have a voice
Now I never make a sound
I just do what I've been told
I really don't want them to come around

Oh, no

Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same

I can feel their eyes are watching
In case I lose myself again
Sometimes I think I'm happy here
Sometimes, yet I still pretend
I can't remember how this got started
But I can tell you exactly how it will end

I'm writing on a little piece of paper
I'm hoping someday you might find
Well I'll hide it behind something
They won't look behind
I'm still inside here
A little bit comes bleeding through
I wish this could have been any other way
But I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do

Keep walking

2009-05-28T02:51:00.001+03:00

I cannot deny that I wanted this moment to come, when I would be able to have you near me even if it is going to be for a second I figured it would bring me only happiness. Not this chill in my heart, not this shame and pain. What was I hoping for? Forgiveness, some sort of reunion? A glimmer of hope that not all is lost. But your voice did not come in that lovely tone, but as on the wings of a storm, my body ached and my eyes shut tight, I could have died at that very moment. I felt my spirit shatter caught in a frozen orb of despair and loneliness. For so long I lay thinking for hours on end what would I say, how you would respond to my voice, to my words? Millions of scenes past in my head as if on film but never had I thought it could be like this, or rather never did I wanted it to be like this. The pang in my heart when I understood how meaningless my presence would be now in your life was so unbearable I could not help myself but to end it there and then. Thinking only of you, seeing that I cannot bring anything good to you, I tore all the bindings, and I cut all the strings. I wish someday I could see you again, but I doubt that you would be as I imagine you. Maybe then I would not even be able to recognize you or for that matter maybe you will not be able to remember me. Even if this happens I still will be looking for that smile, for that shine in your eyes, to know that you are well. That horrible illusion hope still clings to me and although I am scared even to look you strait in the face I will always see you next to me.
And in this moment I feel that if I stay anymore in this stalemate I would die I must turn away from you, from my memories, from my past, feelings and start walking slowly to my future, otherwise it may never come to me. But there will always be a place in my heart that would forever be for you.

Fortuna Non Omnibus Aeque

2009-04-08T00:28:00.003+03:00

I feel you around me, as if I am cursed with the presence of your spirit. A gust of wind that lashes my skin and makes me quake with fear, a whisper in the night that echoes in my mind so powerful it silences everything else that is around me. As I lie in my empty bed I can feel so briefly your touch on my lips I could almost taste it, but then I open my eyes and the emptiness makes me shudder. There is a storm in my soul; I know I can’t hide from it. Can’t you stop it? When it takes over, can’t you help me? I only wish to press my cheek to your heart, hear it pound in your chest. I wish it would shut out the screaming of my demons, but they get louder. I can’t break through that thick darkness.

A shadow on film

2008-12-22T07:34:00.001+02:00

We all live in a darkness of our own making

I open the dusty and long forgotten notebook that always stands by me, I gently stroke its wounds of time and beating, I pick up the pen that is nearly out of ink and try to put my restless thoughts to meaning, to bind them in written words so that they leave my soul and disappear forever.
I want to write to you, who I care for, who I long for, who I hate, who I … I cannot. My hand by its own wish and command stops itself before I even begin the first few syllables. My hope of telling all that is, I guess is not possible for my mind or, apparently, my body.
I want to tell you, you that strange shadow under the lights, so many things that dwell in my heart. I wish to speak to you, to touch you, but how can you touch a shadow? A scary and strange shadow in front of the stars. I see how you dance in frenzy, I know when you are smiling, I can feel when you are lonely, when you are not, and I can sense what you are thinking. A shadow that follows me everywhere and nowhere, only a shadow that makes me a bit jealous when you have a romance. For me you are a dream, I know that reality is not as quite as it seems that it changes all the time according to some law and strange order, but still you cannot, you will not exist in my lonely world. You belong somewhere else, with someone else, with something different. Why those ghosts of yours do not want to leave you alone? Is it fate that brought you here and fate that keeps you at bay? Why are you only a shadow to me? Why are you only a dream? I shall never say that you are the one and only because I do not believe that I even know who you are. But that does not give me peace, in fact it binds me even more, it makes me even lonelier in this cold and dark moment. I know that you will never be mine.
I believe in all that is here, in my small world, not that the real world is as tiny as I tell it, but because we all live in our separate realities that connect only at some few points in time. For one a smile that is seen on someone’s face in the street can mean love or happiness and for others it can represent the loathing and hatred imbued with that new fashion of showing those dark feelings – smugness and irony. Everything is different in all of our worlds, in our closed balloons of truths and lies. So why I cannot understand or even try to except that in your reality all of this is strange and distant to you. That for you the truths that exists in my world is only dim remembered silhouettes in yours. Why do I want to get closer, to find a gateway, a sort of a passage to you? Why do I seek the touch and whispers of a shadow?
Is it really just because what and who you are? Is it that simple and childish? Is it just because you are a spooky boy and I a little girl, a prince and a princess in our own making and thought? I feel you so close to me, but still I want you closer, I wish to make that one final step and touch you without the fear that I cannot, that you will step back. Come just a little closer, so that you can hear my whisper, for you should know what I wish to tell you. I know that you long for such worlds spoken in truth. Come so close so that it would reverberate through the wall that stands between reality and dream, so delicate that it crushes all and can be called only with one simple, but longed by many, word – intimate. Do you dare? Do I dare?
A shadow is only but a shadow; do I really know you that well, which makes it? Would all the connections be severed if I give strength and power to my dreams? Can I possibly hurt you or for you to hurt me? Will I step forward when the moment comes or just stand back because I got just what I wanted? Idiotic. I know what I can give and I know that you, lonely shadow among so many, is all that I want. But do you? Probably not, why should your reality be as mine, even only on this one small subject? Why should it be true that just because I wish for you to be closer you should also want the same? Even now I hear the tearing and howling of the force that cuts through all that connects us. The end of eternity comes closer with every heartbeat and I only yearn for the moment when I become a monster, a creature of darkness, which cannot afford to love or be loved and get rid of the pain and suffering of being human.
But still I want to see your shadow in front of my door and make the dream of seeing that wraith merge with mine and consume me in its blackness real. I know that I can do all that I want, that I have the courage and strength to fight for the things I crave for, but still I want you to be my angle of mercy, my helping shoulder in time of need, my sanctuary, my bliss and contentment, my respite. Those words should not be uttered by some as young as me, they should be spoken softly to a lover, not a shadow, not to you. If but even thought those words will frighten you, make you feel locked in a cage from which you do not know how to escape without hurting your captive. But I am not telling them, I only feel them in my heart. Let me be so brusque and expand my confused thoughts on this pathetic rhetoric. I wish only that one day I could freely speak them out loud to you, I only dream that at some point they will bring nothing but joy and that they will be wanted and be true. Now they are nothing but longings, noting material not even a phantom in my mind. Just a ghost of a chance that it can happen. But can you understand? Can anyone understand the faint hope in my body and maybe, if there is something as this, my soul that one cold winter’s day I can give voice and meaning to those dreams and let them flow without any remorse?
If you step into my abode now what will you think, what would you see? Will you recognize the destruction that you did to me? You should - you left such marks not once in your life…
Why am I scared of the coming day? Why am I frightened of the light that will shine from my window? Why I do not want to hear the ringing of the doorbell or of my phone? Why am I disgusted even at the thought of hearing someone’s footsteps outside my door or voice telling me things I do not want to comprehend?
Because reality, the true one, always eventually catches up to us and destroy all of the petty dreams we create to preserve our fragile minds and makes us forcefully stare at it with open eyes. Every night has its end, every bottle has its limit, every dream stops with our unwilling awakening and the pain that flow and ebbs in our heads and leave us uncovered and alone in front of all that we do not wish to see. That a shadow is just a shadow, that it can only be watched from a distance, that can never be touched or loved, that does not have a purpose, that has no memories or future, that does not give a reason to be hated nor longed for, but still can make the heart pound slightly faster, a shadow that can only be a shadow. And that in the mornings light it would disappear and come back in my flight of fancy with the darkness of night and the soft blanket provided by the ever lonely moon. A shadow that I want to love, but can never truly love me.
But what is love – just a melancholy melody, full only with darkness, at which end there is almost always pain and grief? Does one really need that hatred emotion called pathetically “love” as to undergo through life with the sensation of fulfillment? Oh you sad little wilder beasts dying in the river by the monsters that lurk within. Nothing will stay after us; nothing comes when the final curtain falls. Feelings are irrelevant; yearnings are irrelevant, just the cold reality that you only should fend for yourself and never EVER let silly emotions get in your heart.

My soul

2008-06-18T00:33:00.001+03:00

“Death makes angels of us all”
Jim Morison said with some glee…

All torment and anguish will be rendered pure in the becoming of this our last hope of salvation- death. For our souls, which are not imbued with light but of darkness and decay, will ultimately suffer the impact of our actions and will not be released until then. This state, our retched life, is merely atonement for what we had and will do…

As it’s so often said “In winning all, we lost all... In winning what we thought mattered, we lost what truly mattered”. Is there a man out there who can say that it is not so for him?

I wish I could rewind time itself, that greatest illusions of them all; I wish I could change my history, the absolute paradox. I can see the angels tears, falling from the dark sky, down and down they fall, hitting the ground with a horrible sound.
The beginning of every end, and the end of every beginning. I am left with this sinking feeling that nothing is real anymore, everything slips through my fingers and there is nothing I can do to stop this. I remember all that has been said, all that has been done. The memory crushes my heart in its grip, my blood dripping in a ruby red sea.

Lonely

2008-02-07T03:33:00.000+02:00

Another silent night. I can see the stars in the dark and dreadful sky. I can hear the soothing music from the stereo. The glass is nice and cold as I take a sip from it and feel the warmth that overcomes me. There is the sweet, sweet smell coming from the lighted incense stick. The fume from it interlaces with the bitter smoke from my cigar and creates strange and beautiful forms in the air. I can sense something coursing through me, a very faint, but palpable mellowness inside me. My distressed thoughts evaporate in the dulcet fragrance all around me and give me peace. Another sip and another intoxicating wave of warmth overwhelms me. Finally I feel free, I feel translucent. There is no pain, there are no fears. There is no anger and there are no tears. I have in some way forgiven myself all the things I have done in the past, I have thought about all the things that happened to me and changed me. In this brief tranquility I feel calm. I know that it shall not be long before the dawn brakes and when that time comes this mirage will disappear forever. But there is still time. Still some little time left for my soul.
   I will never have you back the way I had you. You will never be the same again. Damn. I am damned. By my own actions. I will miss you. But there is no way to change anything from the past. Only the present exists. There are so wonderful memories. I do not want to forget them. I will not.
   The glass is empty, so I fill it again with my favorite drink. I can feel my heartbeat slowing, my blood warmer. It is as if I am in another place, in another world. Everything melts before my eyes. Now there are only sensations, an enchanting scent, and a blanket of emollient darkness. And that music. I can barely hear it, but I feel it as if it is a person holding me. It reverberates in my soul, soothing it, comforting it, keeping it alive and at the same time drowsy. I want to stay in this perfect state forever.
   But time lives in another world altogether. It does not care for us; it does not wait for us. Here. I can see the first thread of sunlight. Forcefully I return to the place I fear, to the pain that want to clench it’s fist around my heart until it bursts.

      “Never knew that love could hurt like this. Makes me feel so sad and hurt inside. Feel embarrassed so I want to hide”

Snow

2008-01-16T02:02:00.000+02:00

Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear
Sealed with lies through so many tears
Lost from within and hoping for an end
I don’t want to be lied to again

I will never be strong enough
I will never be good enough
I were never conceived in love
I will not rise above

You’ll never see
What I could really be
I wish I could once more see the smile on your face
I wish you would come back so that I can change

The ice melts in my empty glass as I stare at it with blind eyes. There is but one single shy light in the room emitting from the candles I have lit. It is cold and dark in here mimicking the world in my soul. I am in such turmoil, at such a loss I can barely keep myself from falling apart. There is so much I would like to say, but I know the time has since long passed. Now there is only pain and memory so intertwine that I can not separate them anymore.
If only words didn’t hurt so much, if only they didn’t cost so much when spoken or misused. I can not forget, I can not forgive the wrongs that I have made. Then how can I possibly ask you to do this impossible feat? I was burying myself in darkness, betrayal and lies when I should have been flying. And now I am still in the cold damp earth, looking for help when I know that I do not deserve it or would be given a chance to earn it.
I can taste the metallic zest of the blood in my mouth. I can see it on my lips. I have succumbed to the punishment I have to endure for my actions. My skin turns to dust and my mind slowly rots away. The candles died out, I need to get out.

A little something from me

2007-12-22T03:02:00.000+02:00

Well I thought it wouldn't hurt to upload what I have made over the years. So here you can see what I can do.Hope you like it...by the by look in Scraps.
http://astaroth777.deviantart.com/

The moon

2007-12-21T03:39:00.000+02:00

I scream, I plead, I yell at everything around me because it burns me. I damn all that I see because it is hideous and grotesque, because it fills me with rage and pain, because it growls and tears at me with a never ending hell of a voice. And as it reverberates in my ears it amplifies a thousand fold over and over until I can not endure the sound of it and drunk myself with cries and wine just to stop that hideous thing. What is it? It is simply my own cries for you, for all that I did to you and all that you did to me.
I roam the streets of my town in the dead of night almost every night. I could not help it, the cold, the loneliness, the emptiness, the chills and shivers going through me, the fog that drowns everything in its grip and that moon. That horrible, gluttonous, empty, dull and scared moon just can not leave me alone. It is as if she wants me there, up there with her so we can be together, so that maybe we would not feel so abandoned and alone. But she looks so cruel, so vicious and disgusting I can not stand looking at her, but at the same time I can not stop my gaze from falling to that strange little bright orbit in the dark and scary sky.
Tonight again I ventured out into the darkness and I searched for the moon. Alas, she was hiding behind the cold, threatening clouds and the grim fog that had fallen over the city. I wanted to talk with that strange being, to soothe my soul when I look at her and see that I am not alone. To know that as with the moon and the sun, I too can only watch from a distance the one I love, but never to be able to be with him, never to touch him, never to blind him as he does me. I like talking to the moon, I leave her to guide me, I love seeing her shimmer trough the trees and clouds and letting her choose the path in lieu of me.
I wanted to get out, to leave this place of stupidity and humiliation that I had brought to myself, I do not know if it was intentional or not, and vanish in the fog. I was ashamed of myself and all the things I have said and done, I was scared and angry at the same time. I wanted to bash my head in the wall and cry myself until everything lost its meaning. I wanted to see someone, but I knew I drove him away. I drove him away because I was stupid and egocentric. Why do people always hurt the ones they love? Is it some sort of fate, a nasty little game that is played by those tyrannical stars up above? Or is it simply our nature, our craving and stupidity to pres until everything shatters? I do not know the nature of others, and then who gives me the right to say such things. Is it my cravings to destroy everything I want and love just because I can not comprehend that it is enough? There is no faith in this world; there is no high and mighty god or a revolting and monstrous devil. There is no Lucifer and no Adam Kadamon.
On such nights I want to follow the moon, just go with her to wherever she may take me. Such a wonderful night it is. Tonight some of you are in bed with your loved ones, some of you drink to forget them, some of you do not think about anything, some of you are hurt, some of you are happy, some of you are lonely and some of you, but I hope that it is not so, are just like me. Again you have done something ghastly and unforgivable; again you have disobeyed your own vows and promises not to do it but you did. Oh, yes you have your reasons. My god, if you would only truly exist, I had my pathetic reasons to do it, but it does not justify the thing I have done, right? No. It does not.
Words are meaningless now, actions are meaningless. I thought I had a chance when it was plainly known that I had none. But did that stop me from pushing even more? No, of course not. I shut the door right in front of me; just like that I hit it with all I got and slam it shut. I chose the opposite way on the crossroad. And now I have to bear the consequences of my decisions.
Everything is futile, let it all burn to ashes and dust, let me burn to the ground and melt in my own bubbling blood and gore, and then…then just let the new wind blow and make all of me disappear.

For the creator of Ankh-Morpork

2007-12-18T21:29:00.000+02:00

In complete controversy of the things I talk about here now I want to turn my eyes towards someone else, a man who I love and adore, a man who made an imaginary world a real, breathing thing and now has shared it with millions of fans around the planet. This man is the famous writer Terry Pratchett.
He came out to the public with the news of his illness, a rare kind of Alzheimer's. It is saddening that such a grate mind, a man who has build an entire world in his imagination and showed it so beautifully to all who wished, has to go trough such a thing. The mere thought of forgetting all the things he wrote, all his life, for me and many more I think would be devastating.
But in the spirit of Pratchett I will not cry and mumble how horrible this is as though he is already dead. As he said in his letter to all his fans I quote:” Frankly, I would prefer it if people kept things cheerful, because I think there's time for at least a few more books yet. I will, of course, be dead at some future point, as will everybody else.” And of course he is completely right about it. Instead of hundreds of fans crying that it’s all over we should be glad that he has shown such optimism and will continue to write to the moment when he can’t anymore. We all will perish eventually but that doesn’t mean to just sit and wait for the bitter end. So I say to you, my friend, my favorite writer and joker, my greatest example of how a one should face all the things that this crazy world has to offer, I am in thoughts always with you.
Even if we are worlds apart if we are connected by smiles, our dreams will surely connect as well.
As last words I will not say to you to be strong because you are already stronger then many others, but I will say to you to keep on writing and keep on walking. Take care my friend.

Frame of mind

2007-12-13T02:45:00.001+02:00

There are thousands among thousands of “locks” in our world. Some are physical, others are mental. They control us and sometimes we do not even understand that it is so. One of them though is stronger and more dangerous than all the rest. Speech. The words we constantly say to each other. Once they leave your mouth they cannot be nullified, you cannot take them back. Few people understand how much words can tie someone down and still they continue to use it as a “lock”. It is something living and sometimes it can become so powerful that it can bound ones life.
Let me clarify why am I using the word “lock”. For example when you say that you cannot do something there is a big chance that you will fail. Words can both hurt and cure; they can give and take hope, sadness, love. They can do everything.
But what happens when you break a promise, when your own speech turns against you and you hurt someone? There is a saying “Believe not in words, but in actions”. Yes, words can lie and they can hide something, but what do you think stays longer in ones memory. The confession of love or the blow you received. Words always retain their meaning and after some time they are the only thing that is left. There are some words I would never forget, that I shall always keep in my heart and there are those which I would like never to have heard. Words do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not feel love, and they do not need support. Words can be bulletproof, but also they can be the bullet that goes through your heart. Speech is a terrifying thing to posses and when used it can do so much, it can change some ones life.
Life in its self, on the other hand, is something to behold. We constantly change it so it suits us perfectly and continue on with our lies and deceits. We move through our short and uneventful lives in a bubble made by our own mind and desires. Truth be told we are all alone.
You do not know how much I want to change everything, to choose a different path before I did all that I have done. I do not want to change the world, its already too late for that. There is only one thing that should have been different but no one can defeat fate and time.

Избор

2007-11-30T03:37:00.000+02:00

Къде си ти?
Не свети в твоята стая,
но зная, че си тук,
че си сама.Завърнах се.
За първи път разкаян.
За първи път оставам у дома
Не е ли вече късно да остана?

Измъчи ме.До смърт ме изтерза.
Какво ми връщаш?
Нежност разпиляна
и очи изпълнени с лъжа.
Какво ми носиш?
Две ръце, който да допусна
до мен ме е страх дори.
Къде беше досега?

Вдигни лице сърдито.
Възмездие поискай.
Удари.Вратата черна
покажи ми, с тази немилвана ръка.
В лицето ми извикай,
че ме мразиш или дори
че ти е все едно

Заслужил си очите ми студени
Заслужи ги с хиляди вини
Ставам, приближавам се до тебе
Невидима и болна,
ранена и самотна
Не знам дали да кажа
"Върви си" или "Остани"

In a state of grace

2007-10-14T18:47:00.000+03:00

Caught in its strong grip I simply cannot escape, even though at times I really wanted to find a way to brake from that horrible and wonderful spell. Its tentacles are intertwined with my soul, its jaws are pressing to my heart making it bleed,its teeth slicing through my flesh bringing to it pain, a sort of grim satisfaction that they are there and the strange but palpable feeling of happiness and love.
And even though it kills me, even though it hurts and beats me, even though all the pain I suffered because of it invading my life, heart and soul, now I see that a part of me is actually holding tight to it too. It is as if I want to be burn by it. Why, you would probably ask, why do I want to suffer when I still possess some control over my shattered mind ? I do not know. It is maybe because I love it, I adore to know that it is there, to feel its cold chills running through my veins and shiver in delight. Or maybe I am simply jealous that I am going to lose it, that very soon I will turn to a dim remembered memory. My God, how that frightens me.
As I am falling down to the ground, I simply want to look at you and see that you are looking back at me. And even though it is pure and simple madness of a girl, even thought we are going to crash into the horrible and monstrous ground below us I know we will be better off then the others, because we will be two souls in unison. And I simply cannot forgive myself for feeling this way,
but also I cannot forgive myself if I let it go.

Music

2007-09-17T20:31:00.000+03:00

My head is throbbing, my body is aching, my eyes hurt and my strength is all but gone. I feel beaten and alone. The only light I see in the tunnel of life is that of the coming train ready and wanting to crush me under its wheels. I actually do not know what turn me in this retched thing that now I sadly call myself. Was it little things over the weeks, months, years? Or one giant thing that turned my world around leaving me alone in a place I do not seem to understand? I cannot say for sure. Maybe it was some sort of a compilation between them, collaboration in the dark, like the horrifying ghosts and apparitions that consume my dreams with their dead and never-ending screams. I can still hear them; see their ghastly dances played before me accompanied with the discordant melody that is now the cry of my soul.
And there is that other music that is coming from the real world, a voice that appeases the demons, the sweet and soothing voice of a woman. She sings with her heart and I am sure that she believes in the things she sings about and that she is happy wherever she may be. Or maybe not. I do not know that really, I can only hope that it is the first option because it makes me feel much better. She speaks to me to let go, to simply let go of all the things that trouble me, to try to find another path that will not lead me to destruction. Just to go on and on and on like a rolling stone. Maybe those of you who know of which singer I am talking about would say that that is not what she sings about at all, but I really do not care. I feel it that way now and it makes me happy to think like that.
Now that mellifluous voice is superseded by the rough voice of another woman, dark, mysterious and sad reaching for my heart with her story. The story of her love and maybe the story of my own. She realized that he does not intend to come back and even though it is, better for them both she would still miss him. And like me, like all cowardly egocentric bastards on this planet, she asked that same question, as I did before I could stop the words from leaving my lips. Where are my friends now? Why did they leave me? Where is my lover? Can you believe it? To be so damn sure of yourself, to really believe that you deserve the love of someone or the help of the friends you so many times hurt, not always intentionally, but ultimately did. Moreover, as she sings maybe with a little pride in her voice, or maybe because the operator in the sound booth told her to do it like that, she speeks of a someone who told her that in the future she would not be sad anymore and wonders if it is true. I wonder that too for myself.
A rigid voice now takes the stand and gives me hope. It brings to my mind the view of a bar full of smoke and shadows and here and there, the little fire of a lighter. He taps at the microphone; different instruments start to play without regard for each other or if there is a melody. They begin to get louder and stronger mixing and finally in one stroke of the cigarette to the lips they start to play together in perfect harmony. Then that man starts to sing and even if you cannot understand the language, you can feel what he wants to say to you. Somehow, that voice sounds as if it is simply another instrument, not something coming from humans’ lips. Maybe I am putting too much in those songs and maybe the vocalists of those groups do not care, they only do it for the paycheck. Well maybe you are right but for my tortured soul, they sound as if playing only for me, to help me and to drive the ghosts away who for now are silenced. For it seems I really need that silence and peace. And what is that strange voice singing about?
Read it for yourself.

No matter how difficult the path is
Don't look away, keep on living

That is expiation.

In memory of a nobody

2007-09-12T11:07:00.000+03:00

Our life is controlled. Even though we do not wish or simply do not believe in such things, by a power greater then that of our so-called God, stronger then our greatest fears, more real no one thought possible. Our life is controlled by greed. We want, we need, we ask, we take, we order, but never hear the pleads of other more needing then us, never giving, not in the real meaningful way, never obeying when we have to. We consume the love we receive, we destroy the happiness around us, and we even enjoy it. It is our greatest sin.
Parents want their kids to be better in life then they were before them, lovers want more and more ways of showing that the other one cares not interested when we really need to talk or simply hug, every one of us is greedy by nature. There is no escaping it.
Then there is that one moment of our lives when we stop being so selfish and start to think about the others. It is when we want to commit suicide, when you begin to think that if you slit your wrists it would be very painful for your family and friends to know. That you will leave so many people wandering why did you do it and where they to blame. Of course there are those who simply are too weary, too weak, too broken, too hurt to remember what devastation they would bring, they simply want an end.
An end. What a nice ring it has to it, don’t you think? An end to the pain of being rejected, of being betrayed, of being left behind, of the constant reminder that you are not what other want you to be, that you never can or will be that someone everyone wants you to be. An end to the lies in life, to the torments and horrors, to the bloody tears in your eyes, to everything. Some people will say that I am simply depressed or that I am stupid. That there are many, many great things to live for. Name to me one that in the passage of time will not turn to dust.
We are the children of light, full of darkness and hatred fascinated by pain and sorrow despising the goodness that for me now is nothing but a myth, a legend. We have been forsaken from the God we ourselves had created, we even put to shame with our actions the Devil we so fear. I had simply enough of living in a blunt world where you cannot or will not do anything for anyone and you cannot have trust in no one.
Moreover, with what greatness will I be remembered? With my giggles, with my strong love for a boy, with my need of just a handful of people to feel that, I really am alive and happy, with my helping hand always there but not when you really need it? To have your trust in me and to see it brake in thousand of peaces before your eyes just because I am stupid?
I won’t be remembered.

There is nothing to remember about me. I am lazy, I am scared of what I must face in the future, I am weary and weak, broken inside and left to rot. Sometimes at night, I really do not know what or who I am anymore. And when I am gone…..what? My name will fade, my face will melt, my heart will be cold and though I do not believe to have such a thing, my soul will be alone.

I guess I just miss my best friend and my sister by heart.

Who am I?

Am I you? Or just a nobody in the crowd of broken lives, dreams and of course of hopes.