Weird journal entry #1, Wednesday August 5th 2:03 am
I dwell on my past days too much. I miss how it was, knowing it will never be that way again- for I cannot love the way my past - Mind or body could. I sway between the ledge of jumping or staying. Not a ledge of death.. a ledge of uncertainty. This would all go away if I faked it. Faked my belief, my devotions, desires, hunger. I’d kneel on linoleum floor until my knees bled, my arms ached, and my face burned of tears. I can’t run away from it this time. It follows. I make myself sick. I am a disgusting pervert. A wannabe scholar, who invokes erudition to replace their futile attempts of life. Perchance that’s why death lingers in my doorway, she trails her fingers on the frame, enticing me. I feel the gratification of authority wanting me. Pathetic. Death doesn’t want me, she comes to claim what is hers. Can god save me now? Can god scoop me from the frail arms of doom pulling me in for a kiss on the lips. if that kiss ever came, our tounge’s would collide with great force. She’d know how long I waited for this moment, and even though my eyes spew, I want it.
If you made it this far. This writing stemmed from a painting I’m doing called ‘sacrifice’
I’m going to start using this account for writing and art only, as this is the only place I feel that no one’s knows me and I’m free of judgement
