Recentis's Weblog Site • NuTang.com

this is the sick thing.

this is the world we live in.

i have yet to fully realize the magnamity of my grief. some cal it strenght, some call it cowardance, and some don't name it. theres a wall i've lived behind my whole life. theres something that i've never really broken into and i can't say "i don't know" anymore. cause i do. i know all too well. there are inconsitancies in my words. falsehoods in my actions. and neglect in my emotion.

have you ever felt so utterly alone that there was nothing but a barren space sitting in your lap. have you ever laughed so heartily that you couldn't cry. i've dried up the well. the well that every child recieves upon birth. the well of love the well of emotion. the well of humanity. i had my chance. wasted and pilfered was my choice. long ago has that essence left me and now theres a dry empty space that i fill with soil day after day. as the seconds pass as time takes it course nothing has sprung up. from time to time i find for a split second something deeper, far shawdowed that i forced my self to murder, still existing. in those brief moments i find that life is not as i have made it to be. but theres nothing now. can't dig that far. we're dying of thirst.

the only problem is that there is no we. only i.

the walls that i've spent so much time and energy maticulously constructing are coming down. by my hands and by the hands of destiny. i can't do anything but assist in the destruction while trying feebly to keep what ever reminents i can. the sad thing is that they keep slipping through my fingers the same way water slips the glossy texture of a leaf. only my leaves are dried hallowed and yellow. calloused am i. i can't mourn, i can't greive. all ihave is a face to put on a persona to keep up. i want to feel again. i want to know what its like to surrender to the light to surrender to the dark. i'm tired of being so strong. tired of trying. i don't want to die in the lie of bliss. i am not a strong person. i am not taking this well. i am not "pwan" the cool kid. i don't want it anymore. i want my chance to cry. i want my chance to sob. i want to greive...

but i can't. maybe thats what hurts the most.

so stop yelling at me. stop telling me what i'm doing, what is happening can be prevented. stop making me change. don't tell me that i need to do this and that. stop. give me my chance to cry. give me my time. be my support not my enemy. i can't change the way things are. i can't fight it. i'm condemned by my own actions. i've been chained and harbored while everything i see flies alway in the beautiful flight of freedom. do not tell me you mourn. do not tell me you cannot be happy. don't tell me i can do something about your grief. cause when have i gotten my chance? when do i get to cry?

there are people who are emotional. there are people who pick up on the fine finesses of the human psyche. then there are people like me. people who are strong. people who put away alot of who they are in order to go on in their day. i seem harsh. unexplaintory. and mean. but thats not it. i can't give you good reasons. i can't tell you this and that. cause i am barely holding up as is. i seem strong, i laugh, and i chit chat as if nothing has happened but theres i am barren. i am cold. i am callous. i do not deny my nature. i am as i have always been. i learned very early that my emotions will do me no good. there is no point in crying infront of people. there is no point in moping. i don't want your pity. but i am not as strong of a person as you think i am. cause i don't grieve. i just don't. i can't. i laugh about it. i joke about it. and i say everything is going to be alright even if it's not. cause someone needs to hold down the fort. someone needs to be the pillar of strength. but do not think that your words are not heard. i hear what you say. i hear everything.

but this is all i can do to be ok my self. i am giving my self to chains. i am holding out this pitiful arms of mine so the cold clank of iron can clench my wrists and take me away, chain by chain.i know what i am doing. i know the graveity of my actions.. i know. and don't you think i'm fucking sad? but don't tell me do not tell me all of this shit. do not tell me you cannot go on. because it is not you who walks the path of prisoner. you are free to frolic as you wish and i. i am not.

so just. let me be. let me be...