Shitpost - Don't read this if you don't want to

 

Wow, it’s the first of February 2022 and a month passed so fast that we didn’t even notice. I remember when I was a newly turned teenager; I wished time would pass by quicker. I remember sitting in class counting the days until the year ended and haggard through complex relationships all around me. It is funny how as time passes by, you tend to remember what your reactions to certain things were in the past. It’s been almost a month since New Year passed, and time feels like sand pouring right through my fingers and I can’t do anything to stop it.

The future looks dark and foggy. I try to look ahead, try to find steady steps but life seems like a never ending spiral of quicksand and it feels like it’s pulling me in. The steps seem like they’re made of mud, and I’m never sure when I’ll find a rock to step on that will help me stop feeling like I’m falling, even if it’s for a second.

Thinking about this reminds me of a daytrip we had. There’s an island here, with a rocky beach. My family and I booked a boat and went there to spend the day. At noon, the water was still up to the sandy part of the beach. My nieces and I sat on the warm sand, feeling the cool water pull the sand away from under us. It felt like a small force carrying me towards something that called to me. As the sun completed its course, the tide started to pull in. Soon our sitting place at noon was about 3 meters away from where the water reached now.

I didn’t know at the time how slippery sea rocks can be. My sister and I held hands and stood waist deep in the water, trying to find proper footing. The rocks dug at our feet, painful yet delivering bursts of pleasure from our feet. The slippery surface seemed treacherous but sitting on it, feeling it with my hands, it gave me a sense of reality, an insight on life.

The ocean calls to us. I don’t know why it is the way it is, the theory of evolution makes sense in this context, because we all emerged from the water, the oceans, so it is a part of us. Did you know the human body contains the same amount of salt as the ocean? Crazy, right?

I love to swim, but as much as I love the ocean, I wouldn’t want to swim in it. I know the current can’t carry me away, and I’m a good enough swimmer to find my way back ashore if I get too far away. But the reason I don’t swim in the ocean is because I fear that I would willingly never come back.

The endless depth intrigues me; I’d allow the water to take my life. I remember when I was 5 years old, we went to another beach where a really strong tide sucked me in. I recall not feeling any fear at that moment, only bliss, and the feeling that I was going where I wanted to be.

Enough about water, I was talking about the foggy future. I have no idea what it holds, and I’m scared to find out. It’s my birthday tomorrow, and according to me it is the worst day of the year.

It was one of the happiest when my father was alive. He’d arrange fantastic parties and invite almost every relative I know of. My joy wasn’t in the attention, or the gifts, or the cake or my friends. The thing that made me the happiest was seeing the joy in his eyes. Seeing how he lived off of my existence. It was the love that I could feel. It radiated from his smile, from his behavior. My father acted like the king of the world on my birthday, his happiness knew no limits.

I wish I was still 3 years old, still with him, still innocent and unblemished. Instead, now, I feel like a mistake. And I feel like without him, there’s nothing to celebrate. What is there to celebrate anyway? The birth of a person who ruins everything they touch? A person who has no control over themselves or their own life? A person who makes mistakes after mistakes after mistakes and apparently shows no remorse on it?

Who am I? What made me who I am today? Whose mistake was it? Who is to be held responsible?

Truth is, I am responsible. I was given a key to a lock and I modified it, according to my own needs and I opened the lock that should not have been opened. What am I now? A shell of a person who has no idea what they feel. A person who is incapable of living up to her potentials and is a constant disappointment, to herself and to others.

This is not self-pity. Don’t you dare think of this as self-pity! I don’t pity myself, why should I? What is there to feel pity about? I am strong, I am intelligent, a powerful creature who nurtures others by giving love, sympathy, empathy, kindness.

I used to be that creature once, did you know? Now it’s a constant spiral of self-doubt, misery, and isolation. Loneliness.

The loneliness eats me alive. I prefer to stay alone but I don’t feel lonely. But now it’s a constant ache in my chest, a constant roaming pain that needs to be let out. How do I let it out?

If I cut, I get hit. If I cry, no one hears. If I want to be left alone, I’m not left alone. If I want company, I don’t have the kind of company I need.

The screams and echo of the souls lost
Reminds me of eternal chaos
the darkness that feeds of the pain
the lacking love, the numb, the loss

When I lay me down to sleep
The Lord he hears my cries and weeps
what he says is beyond my understanding
As I miss and hit another landing

Bruises on my feet tell
the stories I withheld from
those I love, those I hate
the demons call and seal my fate

The scars on my skin they speak
ancient languages of fae and elves
what once was a queen, now ashes and dust
the knife still calls, the voice of lust

The monsters in my head they say
oh little one don’t sob and sway
we’re here to take you far away
where you will die day by day

I don’t need to check under my bed
I know if I lose, I’ll end up dead
but there are monsters in the closet
and the closet is my head