Ficciones reales

fantasìas, anhelos, deseos, sentimientos y pensamientos de mi casi-ficticio mundo interno

[metaphorformetaphor]

“What I want from this poem is the loosening of my throat.”

— Alejandra Pizarnik, from “Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 - 1972,” Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 - 1972 (New Directions, 2016)

[putanarcisista]

estoy cansada de tener gente así en mi vida 

gente que toma todo y exige siempre todo lo que tienes pero se molesta cuando tratas de ayudarlo y está destructivo. 

No soy un objeto que está acá para que lo uses cuando quieras y rompas cuando no

fuck off

[putanarcisista]

Me muero de miedo

Quiero hablar de esto pero no puedo. No puedo sin quebrarme y todavia no me puedo quebrar. Pero no me puedo preparar sin quebrarme mientras sigue aca, y no puedo quebrarme mientras sigue aca sin haver todo mas dificil para el.

Es mi mejor amigo. La persona que ha estado conmigo desde que me empecé a llamar adolescente a mi misma. El que vivio conmigo todos esos momentos que amenazaban con hacerme dar por vencida.

Somos él y yo contra el mundo. Qué somos él y yo si no está él?

Quien va a estar de mi lado?

[putanarcisista]

No te quiero perder

Pero te vas corriendo cada vez que te asustas.

Pero tomas decisiones que te mantienen en un ligar tóxico.

Pero sigues tapando la realidad con la primera dinamica disfuncional que encuentras.

Pero te escondes cuando la estas cagando porque sabes que te lo voy a decir.

Pero me empujas diciendo que no eres suficientemente bueno para mi.

Pero tu si te quieres perder a ti mismo.

[putanarcisista]

No me acuerdo de la ultima vez que estuve tan feliz como ayer a tu lado.

No sé qué me posee cada vez que te veo, cada vez que te beso, cada vez que sonríes.

Yo sé que tú y yo no debemos estar juntos, que no eres lo que quiero y jamás encontraríamos una armonía, pero no me imagino dejándote.

Te amo y te extraño todos los días, pero no se si te amo más a tí como para quedarme o si me amo más a mi como para dejarte ir.

[putanarcisista]

I gave up cutting, and hitting, and burning and choking.

I gave up pills, and molly, and shrooms, and acid, and coke, and speed.

I force myself to eat something and force myself to stop when I’ve had enough. I wont ever, ever let myself throw up on purpose.

I set limits not to give all I have to others, disregarding my own needs. I avoid feeling dependant, avoid linking my feelings to the actions of people I can not control.

I ended toxic relationships.

I gave up living my life for the thrill and the drama to focus on keeping myself safe and stable.

But I don’t know how to handle feeling empty anymore. I don’t know how to handle feeling numb. I’ve only ever known to hurt myself.

I don’t know how to do well.

[putanarcisista]

¿Por qué mentí sobre ti?

Conté que fuiste y dejaste de ser antes de que yo pudiera saber si te quería o no. Y, no, no te quería.

O sea, no te busqué... pero sí te quería. No hubiera podido no quererte.

Pero cuando fui a que me confirmaran si es que habías existido en realidad y me dijeron que sí, les mentí a los demás.

Y no era por ti, no es que te haya querido esconder a ti. No se cual era mi logica, no es que sacarte a ti de la historia cambie lo que él me hizo. No sé. No entiendo. Pero lo hice.

No sé cómo me puede doler haberte perdido si ni te conocí, ni estuve segura de tenerte antes de saber que no pude

No puedo

ni terminar esto

[putanarcisista]

Extraño como me siento a tu lado. Extraño sentir que no sé quién soy mientras reconozco que nunca me he sentido más como yo en mi vida.

Extraño no sentir que tengo que pedir perdón por nada de lo que hago. Extraño saber que al entrar a un cuarto podías sentir e interpretar mi energía.

Extraño saber que no me importa si estás o no de acuerdo con como me siento porque sé que igual no lo desvalidas. Extraño saber que me entiendes sin tener que explicarte.

Extraño saber que un beso no tiene que significar nada, y un te amo no tiene que atarnos al futuro, ni al otro. Extraño poder pedirte afecto y que me mires en burla antes de darme lo que necesito.

Extraño ese amor que no pedimos no buscamos ni queremos. Ese amor que evitamos. Extraño tu presencia y tú esencia, tu calor y su frialdad.

Extraño todo lo que fue que no fue nada. Extraño eso que no tuvimos que no podíamos soltar.

Te extraño, lindo. Te exraño, verano.

[putanarcisista]

We were best friends. You pulled away and so did I, because it made sense and you wanted space. Then I came back,and I tried and I was careful not to push too hard. And then you chose. You chose when no one was forcing you to choose (I hope). And then you left without even letting me say goodbye. Without even saying a word to me.

I miss you. I also really hate you. But you deserve that. You bitch about people leaving and being unreliable. Look who left now.

Fuck you. I miss you. I hate you. Don't ever talk to me again. Will you ever even try? Please try. Stay away. Come back.

Some kind of friend huh.

[putanarcisista]

You thought I was the one, well so did I. I wanted to give you everything I had, get you everything I found and make for you anything you wanted. I loved you and I love you and I will always care.

But it isn't me, it never was. If I was supposed to make you happy, then we would be happy right now. I hope some day, when you've found that person that gives you everything they have, gets you everything they find and makes for you anything you want; you can look back and smile at when we tried.

I hope I can too.

[putanarcisista]

Reflections

One serves as a mirror for the people in their lives.

To him, I'm a fucked up, lonely party girl. I laugh and dance and flirt and pass out.

To his brother, I'm a survivor still in recovery. I think and write and cry and restart.

To his boyfriend, I'm an angel, those who should call themselves victims. I help people and protect them and ask for nothing in exchange.

To her, I'm a bitch. Selfish, mean and fake. I lie and hurt and play with people's feelings for attention.

To her, I'm a hopeless romantic. Excited, impulsive, passionate and sweet. I jump into things and live them and get disappointed and cry and do it all over again.

To her boyfriend, I'm dramatic and silly and innocent as fuck. I laugh and fight and make everything and nothing matter.

But to him, to him I'm a badass, strong, beautiful and reluctant to accept that I am no longer a victim. To him, I already fought and won, I already cried and learned. To him, I'm ready and too scared to admit it. To him I know what I get into and what will happen if I follow through, but like to use my doe-eyed state to convince people that I need them behind me in case I fall. To him I won't fall, and if I do, I don't need anyone's goddamn help.

To everyone, I'm the side of themselves they feel proud or ashamed of.

He doesn't love me and I don't love him; there is nothing more to us than admiration and attraction, nothing more than fondness and kissing. To him I'm special; to him, I'm me.

[putanarcisista]

Fast forward to all the times you called me a slut and a bitch for not talking to you when you wanted me to, when you bad-mouthed me to all my friends and your friends and the strangers I meet that I find out hate me for no reason other than you talking shit about me. Fast forward to you fucking my friends and disrespecting me in every way. Fast forward to me not giving a flying fuck anymore because obviously if I don’t comply and make you happy, all you do is try to hurt me. Fast forward to me realizing you don’t love me and probably never did, you loved not feeling alone.

[putanarcisista]

A VER

Es la primera y ultima vez que tocaré el tema dado a su ridiculisima naturaleza.

NO dejé ningún recibo entre tus cosas.

Si es que lo hice, fue 100% casual y no tengo la mas perra idea de qué era o por qué estaba ahi.

Si quieres victimizarte porque recibiste un paquete con algo que se metió accidentalmente en la bolse y/o libro then cry me a fucking river.

[putanarcisista]

Quick reminder to all exes;

Presents are not meant to be given back. They are PRESENTS. They are YOURS. If it hurts to look at, throw it away if you want, don’t be fucking rude.

[putanarcisista]

I found a box labeled “from the love of my life”

I labeled it that shortly after we broke up because staring at things you gave me everyday hurt too much.

Fuck were we in love.

But then shit hit the fan and I was so hurt by you that I couldn’t wait to get rid of it. But I couldn’t find it.

Silly me hid it so I wouldn’t see it or throw it away.

Well NOW I found it. And I never knew how a box full of letters and small presents could make everything ache so much.

How the fuck did we get here? Why did you act like that, now there is no turning back.

I’m not saying I’m a saint, not even close, but i never purposely hurt you. You did. I don’t think I can forgive you for that.

Now i have a box full of memories and your number blocked from my phone.

Now everything hurts and I don’t know how to make it stop.

[putanarcisista]

Of course I care

Yes, I care. Its almost as if you've forgotten everything I am and how I think. Its like once you're hurt I just become a blank character for your most fucked up fantasies to build back up.

Learn to say no without explaining yourself. Well I'm doing just that. Taking care of myself, cause if history has shown me anything its that nobody else will.

But thats fine, react however you want, believe whatever you please. At the end we are both fighting our own battles, its the way it has to be and the way it has always been between us.

Best of luck, I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you're happy. I hope someday we can be friends.

[putanarcisista]

Ugh

I don't talk to half my friends because i self designated myself as a toxic person and dont wanna cause drama for them, i dont talk to my best friend from college since before my breakup and he is kinda being a dick as well, the girl i considered my best friend soread rumor about me to fuck my life up and now, now i got kicked out of college. Fuck fuck fuck. I wanna just move away, leave everything and everyone behind.