Torture

Tormenting mi seems to be the order of the day, week, month and freaking year. The funny part is I can't complain because it would be quite silly sounding....maybe I should go see a therapist but then what would I say?? 'Hi, meet the unlovable. Now fix mi?' Ok sure, I shouldn't say that but it is really hard....

It's not even sad as much as it is so bloody annoying....you know when someone is enjoying every minute of the torture he or she is putting you through. Where you can see the amusement your reaction brings, and as much as you hate to fuel that look, your emotions and your heart refuse to cooperate with you. 

But really though, why do I keep jumping back into the same pattern and the same routine?? I sink into depression, drag myself out, spend most of my life fighting it, loose and back again....
And through all of it, my heart hurts.
....
....

I want out. 

Just Enough

I love you enough it hurts my heart,

So much it maims mi flat

I love you enough it makes mi a tool,

So much the world sees mi a fool

,I love you enough its hard to breathe

.So much there is not enough air on earth

,I love you enough its hard to breathe

.So much I need air

,I love you enough it makes mi a tool

.So much I need a life

,I love you enough it hurts my heart

.So much the ache is my beat

.I love you enough....just enough for it to hurt

I Often Miss Him

Some days I miss him.
I miss his smile, 
I miss his laughter.
I miss the way his eyes light up when he finds something funny.
Its funny though; I miss him but I never had him.

Some days I miss him.
I miss his voice,
I miss his words.
I miss how he gets amused when he irritates mi.
Its funny though, I miss him but I never had him.

Some days I miss him.
I miss his eyes,
I miss his face.
I miss the way his eyes twinkle for no reason at times.
Its funny though, I miss him but I never had him.

Some days I miss him.
I miss the laughter,
I miss the arguments.
I miss the bikker and random comments that go for days on end.
Its funny though; I never had him, though some days, I wish I had. 

Can I Be For A Min

Can I be sad for a minute and cry??

Nope; I told you so.

Can I feel bad for myself for just a little bit??

Nope; it would help no one.

Can I talk for a minute and unburden??

Nope; it becomes impossible to press-down.

Can I crawl under my blanket, with headphones and block it all away??

Nope; this is your reality.

Is it so much to ask that I get a reciprocal??

Yes, the world can’t be fair.

Is it so difficult to get a shoulder for a bit??

Yes, you currently can’t afford it.

Is it bad that I want to be…. so scared I cant even ask it….

Yes, must do you first.

Is it such a horrible thing when I let myself out??
Yes, you currently aren’t worth it.

Won’t it be nice to not have to say I knew it all the time??

Just as nice as it would be to predict the future.

Won’t it be nice to not have to feel this déjà vu only with an actual past always??

Just as nice as it would be to change the past.

Won’t it be nice to not have to fight the nausea constantly, unsure if its at the thought of self or others??

Just as nice as it would be to look in the mirror unforced.

Won’t it be nice to be a little secure, at least even before anything happens??

Just as nice as it would be to be free.

Is it bad to not want this constant racing heart??

Nope, but a lottery wish is easier.

Is it bad to not want this constant longing too??

Nope, but an addict’s freedom is easier to achieve.

Is it bad to not want to be the ‘no’ option all the time??

Nope, but the ugly duckling seems to have an easier luck.

Is it bad to just have the eye on mi for once, doesn't even have to be first??

Nope, but that's too pathetic for my ego to let you be.

Hyposomnia

Most days, I sleep longer, because the day seems to go by quicker. It's not at if I have anything especially exciting to do in the morrow, or as if there is something new to look for in the next day. No; it is simply because the hours are less tedious and boring when reduced. The same routine daily; maybe in varying order, but ultimately, the same. Then I have to ask myself, is this really it in life??
I figured as a people, some of us spend most of our life's trying to figure out what we want to do with our lives. By the time we get the semblance of a possible hook on the answer, something always gets in the way. Though granted there are some lucky ones; a few I dare say, who find that path that leads them out of the never ending monotonous circle, and off to the 'road not taken'. Those are the lucky ones to mi, because they have found a way to break the curse of boredom. Though what lies beyond the road is still a mystery. For all unknown, it could simply be a road to another endless circle, or a round about journey back to be original circle. But given the life expectancy of most humans, I'd say its better to take one's chances with be road, as the possibility of you expiring all the paths and coming back to the original dreadful circle in the course of one life time is pretty slim.

Again

Why do I get myself here all the time, when I knw I'd end up feeling crappy about it latter.
I torture myself most times, and I'm not a masochist though. Not by a long short. But it's almost like someone else plays mi and tortures mi in my stead it hurts somehow all I can do is bleed through it and cry through it and then move on. Accept it and love on.... Or accept it and bottle it all down inside I'd say I'm done, but sadly it's not my place. I have no say in what happens. So I can't say I'm done. I wish I could say.

Tribute to a Beloved Uncle

Dear Uncle Emma,

No one ever gives you a manual or a ‘How to Navigate The Waters' book in this area. It is like being a little child and having that horrible swim coach, who simply throws you into the pool and says ‘swim’, with no prior experience or knowledge. But even as horrid as that sounds, the child is still expected to swim. He is expected to overcome his immediate woes and survive. Despite how terrified of moving forward the child is, or how scary navigating through the waters seems, he still does it because it is the only thing he can do. He still does it because he is expected to survive.

Death, like the coach, has tossed us into these uncharted waters, and has rubbed us of you. Death has rubbed us of your smile and your caring words, of your laughter and your wise advises. Death has rubbed us of your loving reproaches and your encouraging arms. Death has rubbed us of you. And like the little child, we are now wadding through unchartered waters. Though we want to sit still and cry for help, we have to paddle forward. Though we want to yell at whomever is to blame for tossing us in this turmoil, we have to paddle forward. Though we want to be depressed forever, we have to paddle forward.

We try to paddle forward, telling ourselves that by way of comfort, you would have encouraged us to do so instead of sit and cry. We try to paddle forward, telling ourselves that by way of advice, you would have told us to do so instead of yelling and casting blame. We try to paddle forward, telling ourselves that by way of cheering us up, you would have told us to do so instead of wallowing in depression.

So with the believe that you are now at peace, resting in Him and now free of pain, So with the believe that you are now home, smiling down on us; we bid you farewell and a good rest, and we paddle forward as best as we can, and hope we make you proud.

        Rest easy with our Lord, till we meet to part no more.

Adieu Dear Father, Uncle and Brother. 

                                         27th September, 2012.

Blanks

She is blank.

Looking at the picture before her, it is amazing they say it is the story of her life, because everything is unreal to her. It all seems like a movie she is unfamiliar with. Funny irony?? They say this picture is her life. Her future to be precise.

'She was born, she lived and she died'. But that is not true right??
'She was born....and she died'; that seems to be more of what it feels like.

Emotional Drama he says??

How odd.

One would think that when you say something like that, you don't go stop concerning yourself with YOUR unnecessary emotional 'baggage'...'...at least not after the person being spoken to has evidently gone through depression several times...and had to self-help each time...
But then she is the fool for thinking there would be a difference this time when there was nothing remotely close to that the last time....

A Simpleton's Prayer

These days, I feel lost.
As a result, I feel scared.
As a result, I feel doubt.
As a result, I can't move.

These days I don't know what's ahead.
As a result, I don't know what is expected.
As a result, I don't know what to do.
As a result, I can't move. 

These days, I feel a conclusion, without knowing the play. 
As a result, I can't write the next part.
As a result, I can't plan ahead.
As a result, I can't move.

I don't plan the future, He does.
I don't know the next move, He does.
I don't see the end, He does.
So I cry here for help. 

Based on Old English Times....

A girl runs away from home after you tell her, unceremoniously, that she is a bastard and unwanted. Then she is found by one of your groomsmen, who saves her and tajes her on a journey with him since no one seems to want her. Said girl tries to commit suicide when it seems groomsman would marry someone else, and there is no place for her. He saves her once more, realizes they have feelings for each other and get married to her. Then, due to unforeseen circumstances, she has to come back to her home to ask for help to save the groomsman. Then the family, with the passing of the two who hated the girl the most - grandmother and father - welcome her with 'open' arms. The catch is that she must divorce the groomsman, as he is not 'fit' to be with her. She threatens to disappear again if the family should try to interfere. Mother, who refuses to eat with the groomsman as she does not 'eat with servants' goes to tell the man to leave the girl. She says he should leave her for a week and test her feelings for him. She blames the feelings of the girl on the journey she has been on. The man leaves. Of course the girl, as soon as  she finds out, runs off and catches up with him. 

What annoys mi in all this isn't the nerve of the mother to make such a request, but the untrusting man. Doubting Thomas. While it is understandable for him to doubt her feelings based on their financial differences - she was raised as a lady and he was and still is regarded as a 'working man' or a servant - it is still a bit rude to doubt a person's feelings for you, after said person has tried to commit suicide because she thought she would loose you. While suicide isn't something I would recommend, it makes mi wonder just what one has to do to prove his or her love these days. I mean if suicide does not remove the doubts, then what would??