A blog about the randomness of a random life. I don't fucking care if you'll read this or not. I don't fucking care if you'll react or not. I will write...because that's how I live. I don't give a fuck about what others think.
I have to admit: the past few weeks, my love for MCR was slowly fading away.
I am not being myself; losing every sense that it was me encased in a body that seemed so foreign now. I am myself but who am I? It's like someone has taken over.. I am slowly decaying inside my head. Slowly slipping in a black hole of nothingness. That's me..in a battle against depression and even my own desires--weaknesses rather. My worst enemy..my own identity. It isn't something new, people are like that. But I am experiencing a fucked up mess. I am like glass breaking into shards. Each cutting deep, each hissing pathetic arguments to me. How will I conquer myself if I was already conquered by a part of me..hold on, make that hundreds. My mind became divided, I wasn't whole anymore. I am afraid..what's going on? Why am I doing this? What if I will totally lose myself? Am I going insane? Questions. Lots of them. Where are the answers? I thought that sharp piece of metal holds the solution. I kept on convincing myself that I'll be fine as long as I feel. I'll be fine as long as I could numb that internal restless pain with every flick of the razor. I'll be fine as long as I know that I'm alive. But that doesn't constitute as living, right?
I am liar. I shouldn't trust myself.. I can't even fool myself that I'm not lying about how i'm coping with it. Though I am stupid enough to keep on holding on to the razors.
Last night, I was on the same old situation. I tried to sleep it off, but the voices inside my head were too loud and disturbing. It felt horrible that I can't explain it. I just wanted to blow off my head or kill myself the easiest way. Fear choked me. The voices won. I slip off the bed and searched for the temporary solution. I remembered that I needed a new blade..the old ones were all dull and stained. I rummaged the contents of a big box where I kept things that I don't want others to see. I panicked. For minutes I found nothing. My fingers felt something sharp at the bottom of the box so I spilled out its content. My eyes fell on the cover of The Black Parade Is Dead! funny how the blade I felt earlier was tucked in it.
I took that as some kind of hope. Though I wasn't convinced that it could help. The blade resting harmless in my hand, I watched TBPID. I stared with no interest at the band who once saved my life, trying to listen to the lyrics I've almost forgotten. Then Disenchanted was played. All of a sudden, I felt connected. I felt tears suddenly forming on the corners of my eyes. I glanced at the metal on my hand and shakily dropped it under my bed. The voices inside me hissed. They argued: it's just a song. It's nothing. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cover my ears from all of their harsh words. I was cradling my head, trying to squeeze out those words when I heard Famous Last Words play. I feel. I feel. I could fucking feel without the help of blades. I cried a bit at the realization that I almost forsaken everything..the band that once saved my life..and did it again that night.
I don't know how long I could still hold on. I don't know long could I keep on living like this..all that I know is I am not afraid to keep on living.
Thank you My Chemical Romance. <3
