This is just something I wrote, and posted on the inside of my notebook last year at school. It just got everyone to shut up and stop asking me questions that I really didn't feel like answering.
This is another one of my writings, done very recently while i was upset. It was one of those things where you don't think about what you're doing, you just write.
The Meaning Of Life As We Know It When It Comes To A Complete Halt In The Middle Of The Road Like A Deer Caught In Headlights, And Can’t Move, Metaphorically Speaking.
You look out at the sky, seeing the leaves change. It has to be fall, right? But then you notice…are the leaves really changing? Or is this another one of your demented fantasies? That’s your whole life you see, demented fantasies. Walking around in a complete daze all day. Welcome to my life. Some may find it utterly boring…But I consider it as close to exciting I’ll ever come. As a child, I’m not talking 10 or 11, which is my current age, I’m talking 4 and 5….I always wished for some sort of adventure….be it dinosaurs at the dinner table, or an earthquake near bedtime. Nothing of the sort have I found. Not until recently had I realized what I was asking. I’ve found my adventure, although it is of another manner entirely. You see, as I get home, I log onto America Online. This is the sort of place where you may fulfill your wildest fantasy…or worst nightmare. Not just my dreams, hopes, and such, but the hopes and dreams of many others. As I write this, I wonder what I think, seeing as how long ago my hopes died, and dreams faded. I’ve tried to regain them, But I just cannot. It is like a poor soul trying to piece a brain together, after it’s just been blown to pieces. The grey matter splatters the wall. How will you ever know which piece goes where? I cannot see how it is possible to piece such a large puzzle together without some sort of map. It is utterly, utterly hopeless. As I fall deeper into a pit of despair, I see not only my friends and family, who suffer along with me, but demons, and angels, of whom suffer, all because of me. Their wings torn, and halo’s crooked…faces blackened from the fire of anger which is inside myself. This pains me, to see those angels in such ragged shape. As I investigate further, those angels are not the heavenly beings which we’ve come to know. They are my family. The ones I’ve hurt the most. For I’ve been utterly, utterly stupid, and this shall be my punishment, falling through a black void, filled with the fire of hatred, seeing those who I love burn, burn into a crisp of toast, not much unlike the buildings which I torch. Not much unlike the bale of hay which lit the witches into their final resting place in Salem so long ago. They burn, and I see their faces melt. But again, upon a closer layer of investigation, they are not my family, but something deeper than that. They are the hopes of my family. The dreams, the emotions, everything which they hold dear. Gone, Incinerated. Mesmerized, I lean closer into the fire, feeling the flame. My hand is tempted to pull back in pain, yet, foolishly, I do not. The flesh melts from my hand, falling below. The pain I feel no longer, thanks to the fact it’s numbed by my stupiditity. This is another example of how I hurt those I love. I cannot do one thing right…feeling my emotions, everything light, and happy, melt away, and fall with the flesh on my hand, leaving only the hard bone beneath. I have been stripped down to the very most bare emotion, the most raw aggression, the most depressing sadness. I see but no happiness left. My family, my friends, those I hold dear have burnt into an oblivion, and now I’ve nothing left. This scares me slightly, and yet it also fuels the fire even more. The fire of my anger… But I cannot be mad at them, as I’ve brought this upon myself, the anger gets turned inwards, extinguishing the flame, turning my insides blue with sadness…bluer than the sky, yet darker than the murkiest depths of the sea. I feel no compassion any longer, I feel no love, no happiness, I feel the burning fires of hell, tearing me apart slowly from the inside, feeling the fire charr my skin as I am slowly filleted from the inside out. Yet I have no inside, as my flesh burned off long ago, long long ago, before I’d even met my family. I am nothing more than a flaming skeleton, anger and rage consuming me. Sadness is there also, sadness and depression, as they make up what used to be my skin. This sadness is deeper than skin, yet the rage is even deeper than that. I am slowly consumed by emotion until I collapse, into a hopelessly dying heap. My feelings, what I promised myself I would not deny, have killed me…yet I do not feel suicidal. This gives me more of a reason to live, as I rise up from the ashes like a phoenix. No, not like that. It would be unfair to compare such a lowly being as myself to a magnificent bird. I arise either way, determined to prove myself wrong, determined to keep on going, even though that tiny little fire inside has burnt out. Perhaps I may rekindle it, and start it again? Hearing my thoughts echo inside my head, which had been empty for so long, which had been silent for so long I’d felt I’d turned deaf, Scared me. Frightened me. I was thinking again, and I did not like what I heard. The frightening thoughts of death, depression and the likes filled my heads as I tried so desprately to shake them away. Not my death, but that of those around me, that of Steven, Lauren, Grandpa, Eric, John, Jason, and others who I’ve lost. And not only the death of them, but those who I’ve grown apart from, or have been separated from over stupidity, Shaun, Neil, Nita, Sidney, Everyone who knows. This hurts, as I fall to the ground and grip my head in pain, trying to shake away these awful feelings of loneliness, trying to get them out of my head, trying to forget. A crow flies to my side, just laughing, laughing laughing laughing his horribly bitter laugh. The cackling sound fills my ears, and the fire inside lights up again. Rage consumes me, the fire of hatred. But is it hatred at myself? Hatred at my family? Hatred at Sidney? Is it hatred at the world in general? I do not know. It is anger. Not madness, Anger, that which has destroyed me also revitalizes, or so it seems. Is this any way to live, is it any way to feel all the time? Must I seek retribution for my pain? Must I extract revenge? I feel lost and confused, this time there is no crow to guide me…as I glance around the walls, the memories come back. One night of Truth Or Dare, One stupid move on my account, one night of argument, one lost brother. They all come flooding back, as the pain and tears flow from my eyes. I try to apologize, but there is not one soul to listen, only the crow, who’s coarse laughter still rings through. I grab a knife and gut the crow. The crow, who should have been helping me, had instead betrayed me. Betrayl does not sit easy in my book, as I glance to the dead crow, I realize. Is this how they felt? Betrayed? By their sister? Is this how the felt? Is this what they felt like doing? Gutting me with a knife, then laughing at their triumph? Because, that is what it felt like…me being stabbed senseless by a knife…not a metal one, but one of words, as that’s all they can be. Words often hurt more than knives and guns. I kneel to the crow, bowing my head in silence. I immediately feel sadness for what I’ve done to the crow, as I know that is not what they feel like…But I pray they will soon. I do not expect them to, as I’ve killed them, emotionally. I did not mean to, but I did. Pain, Anger, Sadness, Depression, Revenge, Anxiety, Stress, No Relief.
And currently, I'm working on writing a movie. Go Cry About It: The Effect Of Words On The Human Soul It's about this girl who gets harassed so much, she gets pushed to the limit of what she can handle, and commits suicide. And then how her harassers handle this....