whispers from somewhere

from death, life; from sorrow, understanding; from pain, beauty.

[factnotfiction]

no, i don't believe in god. or any singular deity or cosmic ruler of the universe. i don't believe in them because if they exist, then they're in control of every tragedy to ever happen, and i simply cannot believe that any one being would think that allowing this much suffering and pain to happen is reasonable. no human being deserves to be used as an example of how not to live your life, or as a demonstration of 'it's just bad luck.'

all gods must be cruel, then.

[factnotfiction]

i just want to be enough that somebody will always have me on their mind. enough that they will remember the parts of me that even i have forgotten, enough that i can stop worrying about if i’m just repeating all the mistakes i made with the others. all i want is to be enough for somebody to love me as i am.

a simple, yet impossible wish. 

[factnotfiction]

when i take a step back, i see and feel it all happening again. i notice that i'm remembering all of those tiny little details, i realize that the way i'm looking at you is filled with reverence and light. some (every) part of me feels like it's drowning in all that you are. i want to fight it. i don't want to do this again. i am not strong enough to love something which will not reciprocate.

the third time isn’t always the charm.

[factnotfiction]

I love you and your writing !

I love you too, my dearest. <3

[factnotfiction]

this love is the kind that tears you apart. i know this, because i can feel myself breaking; i know this, because i think you have more pieces of me than i do.  this love could kill with the amount of pain it causes. i feel it in my chest, in my soul, i feel it in the way that all light is dim and dull because all i can see is you. i feel it in every heartbeat, every breath an agony because knowing you and having you must be two separate things. but i will keep loving you. i will never stop showing you love because somehow, somewhere, something in the universe decided i should be able to feel so strongly, and though sometimes it hurts, it's proof that i'm alive. it's proof that there is meaning in this existence. it's proof that people mean something to each other. i will keep loving you because you are worth every ache, every tear, every hurt.

i will keep loving you because you are worth everything.

[factnotfiction]

I’m terrified of impermanence.

I feel like who I was is who I have to be.

This is not true.

I can grow. I can change. I must allow myself an existence rather than an extended snapshot of myself.

[factnotfiction]

plane tickets, bought at the last second because uncertainty is a hiss you decide to scream over and drown out. the middle of the night, the quiet velvet darkness where time goes nowhere, your soft whisper of those three words because you can't say it when you know i'm awake, and you do, you love me, you love me so much it takes your breath away. pure radiant joy, the stars themselves contained in your sparkling eyes when you look at me, like you're finally so brilliantly and brazenly alive, soul on fire, mind endless, like you are the universe in a single person and i am an elder god creating all. memories so old and faded i tangle them up in cobwebs in my head, but you remember them instantly, you know these things about me even when i have forgotten them myself.

this is how i know i matter to you. this is how i know you love me.

[factnotfiction]

i'll always remember how it felt to let you go, because you took part of me with you. it destroyed me to watch you leave. even now, i'm still picking up the pieces of myself i thought i'd never find again. and i can't help but wonder how many of them you touched.  everything i feel, everything i see, it all reminds me of you, you, you. your name is a prayer on my tongue, forever unspoken; you haunt every room like a ghost i can never touch. i can't escape and i can't run away (not that i've ever tried). not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind. if i could have just one chance to start all over, i would do it in a heartbeat.

because all i want is just to get things right with you.

[factnotfiction]

i want to be loved like i loved everyone else. i want someone to commit the sound of my voice to memory, i want someone to feel complete when they hear my laugh. i want them to remember every single inane detail about me because they can't not. i want them to get excited whenever i text, i want them to show me things just because 'it made me think of you.' i wish someone would dream of holding me, wake up feeling empty because i'm not in their arms. i want the fairytale romance, i want the dream come true. i want back what i gave to those who didn't want it.

they say you get what you give... must be nice.

[factnotfiction]

i was always awed by the concept of having no choice but to accomplish that which is a miserable task, yet paramount to improvement. i thought i'd be forever surprised and appalled by the sheer brutality, yet simple necessity, of "just doing it." and now i see the truth.

it's every time i wake despite wishing i hadn't; every time i endure the unpleasantries of work and school and becoming a more "well-rounded" person. it's present whenever i make those phone calls i dread, or speak in front of crowds and people i don't recognize. it's there when i press onwards despite the pure torture of forcing myself to continue on, in any way. it's with me when everyday life becomes a battlefield that i stumble through, emerging not victorious, but simply whole.

the truth: i do everything because i have to. i accomplish the impossible because i have no other choice.

- for when just living is an act of bravery.

[glassrunner]

Depression is a repetitive motion injury, caused by the occurrences of simple everyday life. Factors include but are not limited to: the same shit every day, a lack of courage to pursue or even express a need for change, an absence of support from anyone in your life, total apathy for anything and everything, the realization that this is and will always be your life, and you don't even want to live out the rest of it. Prolonged indefinitely by repeated exacerbation -- namely, simply existing, and having to do all the things you hate, while wholeheartedly wishing you could just do only what you love because life is shitty and why not only do things that at least have a remote chance at making you somewhat less miserable? Symptoms include frustration, despair, more apathy, hyperfixation upon the dwindling number of enjoyable pursuits, the death of many dreams, disassociation, and a resigned weariness that corrodes the soul like acid. Often entirely pervasive and crushing, though it tends to present itself as cyclical, as though reappearing only after particularly traumatic or triggering events (which is a lie because any brief dormancies are likely a festering of the metaphorical injury). Chronic sufferers are characterized by dead eyes and an empty, shell-like appearance; look any closer and they'll crumble into dust and fade away. The cure: death, or a complete transplant into a more desirable time and location where everything finally seems right. (Caution -- the latter is only considered as such if depression is not an innate flaw in the victim.)

A final, potentially completely successful cure: changing yourself completely to combat the disease. Even the parts you like. Especially the parts you hate. Herculean effort required and constant discomfort expected. Failing this means being sent back to the aforementioned cycle of suffering. But this may be the only case in which exercising through a repetitive motion injury will fix it for good.

[factnotfiction]

i am sentenced to purgatory, to an eternal battle between a glimpse of heaven and a taste of hell. i can see the life i want and the person i know i can be, yet i am shackled by the monster i am and the mess i created for myself. my existence is a cage, and i condemned myself to it.

but do you still blame animals for their captivity?

[factnotfiction]

1. knowing you cannot compete. 2. wanting that which you cannot have. 3. loving someone who will never be yours. 4. hating every moment of your existence. 5. hating every fiber of your being. 6. not knowing how to go back to the way things were. 7. wishing you had never let go. 8. wishing you had someone who would never let you go.

heartbreak (noun).

[factnotfiction]

i am a tapestry cut from the cloth of sorrow; an agonized sculpture, molded by bloody broken hands. i am a painting marred with slashes in my canvas. the music of my soul is interrupted by sobs, and cries, and tear-choked words. i am writing which will never be read, the fabric of my existence naught but a torn parchment crumpled in a wasteland. what is art, but an outlet for pain?

what am i, but a release for the universe’s suffering?

[factnotfiction]

there are infinite reasons for me to hate everything about myself and my entire existence, and until the day i die, i will etch a line into my flesh for every single one of them. i am a walking canvas of bloody thin-lipped grins, open mouths shrieking litanies of self-loathing. i am running out of space to show my shortcomings.

every time i swear that it’s the last time. but there is always a next.

[factnotfiction]

they always say to never let home be a person rather than a place, and to love yourself first before you love anybody else. you're supposed to belong to yourself before anybody else. you have to look before you leap. most importantly, you should never hope too much, because an excess of hope kills more often than a lack thereof.

but for you, i’m willing to break every rule there is.

[factnotfiction]

split my head open and screams will float out on bloodred wings. carve open my lungs and you'll find darkness coiling like thick black smoke, choking me, exhausting me, poisoning me from the inside out. slice into my veins and merciless, whispering ghosts will seep through my flesh, and if you're not careful... they'll take you prisoner too.

there are no survivors here: just empty, rotting shells.