#writersxanon

[writersxanon]

if people make you out to be the devil....wouldn't it just be better to be the devil?

[writersxanon]

who wouldn't want to escape an existence of turmoil and despair. of feeling pain and being pained by things as simple as words but as complexed as emotions. the emotions that are to be felt are violent, troubled, and passionate. feelings of anger and pure fucking distaste as bitter as the taste of iron in one's mouth.

although pain and distaste can be seemingly temporary, the effects are intriguing. the memories of such instances stay and can pose reoccurring issues or annoyances.

reminders of the things that are of the most bothersome, that-like words-are simple, yet act as triggers to derail the mind and send it spiraling.

but again who wouldn't want to escape where pain is evident, emotions are complexed, yet words are simple.

who wouldn't want to escape the taste of iron, like dirty forgotten pennies left sitting in one's wallet...

wxa // Friday, October 25, 2019 // 11:05 a.m.

[writersxanon]

Excerpt from the book I'll never write #3

And so she asked me, her eyes burning with a deep sadness. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" My coldness begin to slip into my voice, making my need to be alone evident.

"Go off on your own, isolating yourself so you can just cry yourself to sleep?" Her accusing voice made my body tense. I didn't want to talk about this now, if not ever. Why should I have to explain myself to someone who would never understand the way I felt inside.

I turned to look at her with a disbelieving look on my face. "What are you even talking about?"

"You do this thing, where you leave and go lock yourself in a room and cry," she spoke as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I'm sorry. Would you rather have me cry in your face? At the fact that I wait up every time you're out drinking with your friends to make sure you get home safely. At the fact that I have these plans and scenarios of what to do that day to spend time with you because it seems like I'm never able to with my jobs and your job, only to be ditched for one thing or another. So I'm sitting by myself either eating the ice cream I bought for movie night or I'm so sad that I cry a bit and fall asleep listening to lofi because it reminds me of you?" I paused briefly only to look in her face. She looked stunned for a minute, yet it looked as though she wanted to protest and so I continued.

"That's the thing right there, I am so sick of explaining myself to you when it really doesn't feel like anything has changed at all. And it won't. That's the reality of this relationship. Should I cry about how it feels like I'm always stuck at home doing everything and nothing all at the same time? Should I cry in front of your face because I miss you so much and I just want you to hold me for once. Just one night spent holding me. All I want, maybe some movies or some video games. Something that makes me feel like I'm bonding with you. Should I cry to you about how I feel like you never listen to the things I have to say? Please tell me, other than speaking my mind a thousand times, what is the appropriate way to handle my anger? What should I do to process my sadness?"

She was silent, processing everything I said no doubt. Her eyes glistened with sadness of her own, for us it looked like. "Talk to me about it then."

"I am so sick of having the same talk though. It's the same every time and I'm absolutely sick of it," I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. I just wanted this to be done, to stop talking about the same shit.

I wanted change....

.....and yet I still wanted her.