The Meaning Of Life#1

--- Self Explanatory. Minute ramblings and exquisite uncertainties that dwell on the mind at ..approximately.. 2:39 A.M.

When you literally have been at the break point for almost three+ months, but no one really gives a damn. They all assume you are strong, capable, and don't need anybody to literally lean on. When you tell people, 'hey.. that bothers me' .. they say 'okay.' or 'I'm sorry' and then your 'feelings' are expected to be tossed under a rug because that is who you are. You have to be strong for everyone else. You have to carry everyone's bs. And yes, its stressful, and you suffer in silence because you always have. You don't know any other way to relieve stress than by being around the exact same situations over and over that cause you the same f*****g stress because you crave human interaction but new people, new places, opening up or change in general utterly TERRIFIES you. Emotion TERRIFIES you. So you suffer, and smile, and bear it because you care for everybody else, but at the end of the day, when you are alone, you realize you care for no one.. not even yourself. Yourself, even.. least of all. You don't hate them, you just lack the ability to say 'I give a damn'... when they aren't actually around you. Because around people, you are obligated, you turn on that 'emotion' switch and dust it off from the cobwebs in your mind because that's the only way you know how to not hurt. Turn it on long enough to relieve stress, consequently taking more in, and then when you turn it off again.. because you are alone. Its just that, then.. you are alone. They aren't going out of their way to talk to you, to involve you, how often would they question your whereabouts were you to stay offline? You ask yourself those questions everyday, you lay in bed in the morning for twenty+ minutes just siting there, sometimes even for hours at a time, trying to gather the small reserve of humanity you have left. Humanity that has grown bitter and soured, that forces you to shut people out, and shut them down when you have no other way but to get other people's attention than to be.. savage.. to other people. Everything you do, is for other people. You never do a single thing for yourself. You crave their happiness long before your own, you feed off it. If they are content, they are calm. You like calm, calm is good. Calm keeps you from realizing how long its been since you allowed yourself to cry, even though at the smallest topic you find close to your heart, you tear up, you feel the burn in your throat aching for a release of emotion, eyes stinging and cheeks heated with frustration because you cant even properly. You cant.. even.. remember.. how to smile. You laugh, you smile when people joke. But its temporary. Everything people do, they talk about happiness. How happy they are, when was the last time.. you felt that? You cant seem to recall anything of the sort. Temporary, childish happiness. A new toy, a new friendship, a pathetic relationship when you first try to figure out love. Love itself, tricky.. uncertain. You can't even .. love. You don't know what that word means to you, or even remember having felt it. Crushes, perhaps. Doubtfully caring for someone.. of course. Love, even first love.. you can't remember every feeling that supposedly ELATED expression of emotion. You take every moment of silence to an awkward fidget, everything becomes something you remind yourself to do. Breathing, hygiene, eating.. living. Existing. You dread that silence, you pour the loudest music you can into your headphones, drowned it out, yet even when the silence is unbearable, another human's touch.. their voice, their gaze, their tone.. everything has become hypertensive. Do not touch me, do not speak to me. You dare not say it, you scream at them every waking moment of their action causing you ceaseless agitation, their mere PRESENCE bringing a seething anger to crawl across your brow. Yet.. again.. you crave this.. companionship. Out of sheer faith in something you have no faith in. Love. The smallest sliver of a chance. Chances too, are broken.. meaningless. You've given everyone you've ever known a second chance to the point you cant trust ANYONE anymore. You fail to open up to others, eternally a blocked in wall, killing the people within your city and yourself all the while a battle rages beyond the walls, the outer layers of the city being taken forcefully by those injecting themselves into your life and believing they are allowed a piece or claim of through right of passage. So you allow it.. only to end up.. in that same silence. The same feelings. Repetition.. repetition...repetition... repetition.. REPETITION...until you reflect, even in reflecting you realize you've always known the answer to everything that's gone around you, the good or the bad, the answer was always there. Plain as day, you see your flaws. Your imperfect fractions that split you into the category of adjectives people define you as, yourself being thrown into the modern day scaling system known as a '6' ... above average. That's... is that good? Is that how we should define ourselves.. yourself.. rather? I.. you.. muddle the thoughts in your head, struggling with everything to the point a pounding hammer aches in the right temple that is your brain, screaming, shrieking like a shrill deaf child in agony.. You cling to the remaining bits of your sanity, skirting through the day fleetingly, knowing, expecting, everything to go south.. everything to fail. And when it does, despite all preparations, you suck in a breath, cold, bitter.. Then... night-time. Bed time? No.. you lay in bed counting the minutes on the clock of your phone.. demanding the number to change as if willing it will cause it to do so.. you count. .. your prediction nearly always correct though off by mere seconds, never into the tenths' category of measurement. You could as well, lay for hours in turmoil, suffering, sweltering with undecided emotion clutching at your breast and dying for the chance to escape from your very coil of existence.. and then... silence. Its there again.. You lay awake.. begging for even your tears to give in, to give up.. as the mattress forms a cradle of safety and acceptance... however, when the single tear falls from each recognized eye, you find them.. lacking again. Perhaps.. another time? You thought surely tonight would be the twilight approaching shatter of your expressions, allowing them to run freely with unknown consequence.. you were wrong... another.. restless night. Another.. weary day ahead.. you stare aimlessly at the ceiling and beg whatever power above you there in to free you from it... No answer. Not.. uncommon. usual, as you've done that ritual many years.. should you be used to it..? Do you ever get used to the taste of a popsicle on a hot summer day.. ? Or the feeling of adrenaline from riding a bike the first time without training wheels.. No.. you never get 'used' to it.. So... you are laying there again.. silence.. drifting through life without an understanding of whether tomorrow you will be able to cry.. or not... When sleep hits you.. you wander.. but sink. A rock.. restless.. rolling.. dreaming.. vivid imaginative.. with a creative influence... dreams. Terrifying, heart wrenching.. thrilling to the bone, blood dripping terrors that shock the soul and leave you covered in a fine layer of sweat and the sheets sticking to your skin in a last effort to relieve the stress from your body as your brain retraced pieces, fragments, memories .... together into a shifting molding concoction that was your terrors.. and yet.. you sleep again, out cold.. til morning.... the light peeking in your window a clear signal of only one phrase.. Rinse. Repeat... Repetition... repetition...repetition...

Author's Note

Grammar, spelling, errors, over emphasis with commas... Expect issues. I wrote this randomly to release tension at 2 AM after a lack of sleep for nearly two days. ... BITE ME.

Go ahead and review it however you like. I don't really care, I don't expect a lot of results when it comes to compliments, I am not fishing. However, if you have a problem with my writing.. give a good reason why in your review. None of this.. 'Because.. I don't..' garbage.