Tag Archives: thoughts

Goodbye

There is something you need know. And yes, it is about her. She doesn’t want this relationship anymore. She wants to break up with you. The drugs changed her mind. Nothing in her life has improved, but the drugs made her believe something has. Continue reading Goodbye

Advertisements

Carbon’s Confessions

Why can’t I be a snowflake? Why can’t I be seen as delicate? Pure? Beautiful? Someone that shouldn’t be heated up because it melts, someone that should be admired and not touch since it would be destroyed. Sadly, I’m not a snowflake, I’m a piece of carbon. Dark carbon. Burning carbon. Ashy carbon. Used to power the world, used to draw, used to feed whole homes. Just used, not admired. I’m carbon. But I wanted to be a snowflake. Now I can’t even come close to a snowflake. Because my heat will instantly melt it. Even if those aren’t my intentions. But I was born for this. I was made for this. This is my destiny. Being put under a chimney and heating rooms up. Radiating warmth while burning souls. That’s my destiny. I hate being carbon.

Extract from a Letter to an Old Friend

“[…] Oh Happiness, I miss you. I haven’t seen you since 2012. Every day it feels like if I am sleepwalking into Death, I want her to be my new best friend. My current friend is Apathy, which might be even more dangerous than Death. She makes me act like a ghost lost in the living world, not wanting to be found or seen, hiding behind the scenes. I no longer want to live, I don’t want to be here. I’m just trying to survive, work hard to get by. I wish Hope never left me, but she deceived me too many times. I shouldn’t have scared her away, but Reality told me to do so. I still think it was the right thing to do, yet sometimes I resent Reality for being so cruel. At least I learnt that being kind and submissive was a waste of time. I’m glad I got absolved from the death sentence that Hope and you imposed on me. However, when both of you left, you took Confidence with you. With Confidence gone, Insecurity took over my mind. So many illusions and dreams remain caged in my heart, but I can’t set them free because Insecurity took the cage’s key and threw it into a dark sea. I can’t recover it because I never learnt to swim, I never thought I would need to swim to save my life. I always saw myself as a free butterfly, not as a fish in a tank with a scratch. What will I do when the tank breaks and I fall to the cold ground with millions of crystals? Probably lay there and let out my last few breaths while hoping to cause a good impression on Death, my new best friend. […]”

Love and Bitterness

“I’m starting to believe I don’t truly love most people in my life. I don’t know. Maybe the problem is that I can’t recognise love.  Most “love” I have received in my life has been a disguise for manipulation and interest. I used to call it “conditional love”, but I have now realise it isn’t even that. Anyways, sometimes I think most acts of “love” I carry out are due to a weird sense of responsibility and to avoid possible feelings of guilt. I always say I’m not as nice as many ~claim~: although I help others a lot, my mind is not a loving place at all. Moreover, I don’t think I help because of niceness… I think it is because of my morality. I do it because it is the right thing to do, not because I want to do it.

In fact, I hate when people call me ‘nice’. My so-called kindness, softness and peacefulness are for consumption of everyone but me. Everyone knows I’m soft and I hate conflict, I give in or forgive, so I always get played in the worst ways. “You are so kind and loving,” people say, while they treat me like trash. And the moment I stand up for myself, the world ends. I become too arrogant, too stubborn, too vile. “You are too young to be so bitter,” they say, while I’m also too young to experience everything they have put me through. “You will never date with that attitude”, they say, not realising 1) I don’t care 2) that’s the point. “You need to be less disobedient”, they say, as if being submissive and following imaginary rules for 20 year has gotten me anywhere but to despair.

To be honest, I must admit that I prefer being called “bitter” over “nice”: it is a more accurate adjective for who I want to be seen as. I hate being soft and empathetic. Not only I am overly sensitive, but I’m also overly stupid and overly submissive. Always trying to care about others’ feelings, always looking like a fool, always trying to please everyone. I’m tired of being manipulated. Yet, I know I can’t truly change who I am. But I can make sure I’m perceived as a bitter person, so people don’t get close at all and I stay alone with my mind and thoughts.”

Poem: Erroneous Honesty

“It will get better

A short promise

Which has never materialised

 

It is full of power and hope

Which do nothing but deceive

And anger a hurt soul

 

Why is no one frank?

I wish the revealed truth wasn’t subjective

Naivety is to blame for my heart’s death

 

Suddenly nothing matters anymore

Apathy is my new invisible friend

Silent, but as toxic as its predecessor

 

Everything I loved

I craved and even fought for

Has become everything I hate and want far away

 

When did my favourite days of the year became the least favourite ones?

My birth and the birth of Christ

Days of sorrow rather than joy now

 

All because of lies

Nobody likes to be played

And without apologies, the game doesn’t end

 

At least I’m not a wishful thinker anymore

Too familiar with arrogance to expect anything better

Just wish people thought before acting and hurting others

 

As if growing up in care, black, poor, and a woman wasn’t enough

I can’t lie, I try to love my identity, but it sucks

To be sane, I have to pretend these handicaps aren’t real

 

I don’t enlighten myself to seem smart

I don’t want to be an activist for praise

In my life these aren’t options, it is either do them or die

 

Struggles don’t make me strong

They just make me wish I was never born

While weakening my mind, unleashing my dark side

 

They say scars make you perfect

But, what if they don’t heal?

Infections like mine kill

 

Gratitude is so important

Still, it won’t tame the pain I have endured

Nor the silent calls for explanations

 

I cherish my professional career

My studies, my grades

And the few friendships I have

 

My friends are the biggest gifts life could have ever given me

Not many, I can count them with my hands’ fingers

Yet, invaluable, life-saving and matchless

 

 

However, I can’t stand

Who I am, who I am surrounded by

When I didn’t choose our ties and I can’t left them behind

 

They influence my life too much

Burning my neurons, altering my hormones

Clotting my vessels, asphyxiating my lungs

 

Also, attractiveness remains my most unattainable goal

Love for me is a dangerous fairy tale

And I’m not a princess who thrives in chaos

 

So much ache that can’t be spoken about

And can barely be written about

Repression becomes the only option

 

I used to be optimistic

I believed in the possibility of change

I thought good times were coming

 

But…

After twenty years of seeing a cycle that never ends

I buried my confidence and did a funeral for it

 

What did I do to deserve this curse?

I’m starting to believe in all the stories about magic

This bad luck is supernatural

 

I guess, not everyone is born to live

Some are just born to survive

Be productive for the world and die

 

Facing reality may have saved my mind

I no longer poison myself with denial

My mind is clearer now that my illusions evaporated

 

Everything might stay the same, probably will worsen as always

At least I won’t waste time wishing anymore, since now I know

It won’t get better”

 

-Written with the motive of my 20th birthday.

 

By Emilie H. Featherington

All Rights Reserved © 2016