unhinged

Hush. Do you hear that? Be quieter, ignore everything around you. 

Breathe in, exhale. It creeps nearer when you know what to listen for.

Read this page, read it over and over. Are you hyper aware of the paper, your finger tips that hold the book- hold it tighter. Tighter!

HOLD IT TIGHTER. CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND MY INSTRUCTIONS?

Now relax, still your heart. Isn't it hard? Take a moment, take a breath. Think of every word you've ever said.

Now look up when I tell you, take hold on the first person you see. Who will it be?

LOOK UP NOW.

Did you look? Or have you read on?

It doesn't matter, people are passing. You're a needle in time with me, you are with me while I write to you. 

Do you read books that tell you how good you are? Podcasts that trumpet your little successes, or maybe you're convinced on how good you are because some nameless sod told you so.

BUT ARE YOU? ARE YOU REALLY GOOD? THINK. THINK ON HOW GOOD YOU ARE.

Are you good right now? 

Where are you? It matters. Are you at home? In a café or on the bus? Look around you again, do it now.

I hope you looked, got your head out your a*s for a second. Listen to me now- and listen good. We are only as good as our actions, as our thoughts and our longings. Are you a bad person? It's funny, I never hear these self help books and these influencers and social guru's talk about how bad we are. 

Maybe you are a good person. But I don't give a s**t if you are- we are a society who's default nature SHOULD BE GOOD.

Validate yourself for being good, whatever, I don't care. But don't tell me you're good when you walk past the less fortunate, poke fun at the illiterate, squander those who don't fit into your life the way you want it to look on your f*****g instagram and your facebook. Don't tell me you're good when you choose to USE them for your own gain, to feel better about your own pain.

Why the f**k would you fly 6000 miles to deepen orphaned children's emotional strain, or tweet how you gave coffee to a homeless stranger for likes that don't mean a thing?

You're pathetic. But don't hate me yet, I'm not finished talking, or ranting. Whatever clicks.

So you're a bad person- or a good person. Whoever reads this next, I'll wheedle you out. Into your heart I'll find your truth, this secondary ghost of me. She'll know- and she'll keep your secrets. I'll never met you. But I want to- do you want to meet me?

We could be friends, and we could chat. Tell me every worry that flies around in your head like a crazed bat. Chill out, it's fine. Nobody will know if you lie Write to me- take out a pen. Write down your thoughts in this book- I dare you. Write between these lines, inside the cover. I give you permission.

HA. I GOT YOU.

Read that paragraph again, read it once more. It's called a persona, lines that we all want to hear, that someone cares. You want a stranger to care?! Are you joking?!!!!???? F**K OFF. Take out your goddamn phone, look at your contacts. Friends, family. THEY CARE. I DON'T. That's the difference, idiot. That's what bad and good people believe, that strangers f*****g care. They don't. Sympathy, sure. Post your emotional state online, you'll get a like, a retweet. But do. They. Care.

No. They don't care; the only people who care are the ones you love with all your heart. Picture them, whoever they are. See their faces, not the barista's or the pretty girl or guy you wish you could talk to. THEM. They care. And even if you're the worst person in the world, they will love you.

They're probably bad people too, but they love you.

Have you realised my point yet? Do you feel better or worse than before. I don't care- I'm just a words on a page written by a woman who you'll never know, and probably will never meet. But it's chill, I'm no better than you.

Probably. Unless you committed murder- then you're a s****y person.

I'm bad too, and good. I'm not righteous, don't ever believe it.

Don't believe a word I say. 

And if you, do it because you want to.

Author's Note

This a mere expression...of what? Decide for yourself.

NOT-BETA'D