dead.static's blog

It's hard to breathe.

And it's even harder to write as the unfamiliar warmth in my eyes start to block my view. It's not fair. I've not had a chance to see them live, to know that they're the ones who once picked me up when I was in pieces. It's not fair. They saved a lot of lives, and there are still a lot more that needed them. It's not fair. Their music became a beacon of hope for people like me, and I'm still here--trying to find some sort of light. It's not fair...

But who am I to say that?

They gave me (and lotsa other people) that sliver of hope when there's none, that little smile when their music plays and you know that they understand and they've been there and won over it, that "noise" to make you scream and sing along for the hate and the anger to fade away, that inspiration to do something. They do save lives, what can I say?

dripping
in three...

two...

dripping in three...
two...

dripping in three...
two...

because I'm drowning from it.

How is it to forget?

How do you forget a part of your life, a continuous haunting ghost of the past? I am just a few moments away from remembering but I fear, I fear.

What?

It must be the bitter words I tried to water down. But I will never move on, I will drown. The bitterness scarred a vulnerable part of me, the part of me that has lost its trust to the world outside the walls I've built.

What is left to do?

Do you know how to forget? I need to forget... but I do not want it. There's a screaming in my chest, it wants to forget. To move on.

How is it to move on?

To not look back? To ignore a gaping hole?

Questions, questions.. scream all you want.

I am screaming for something more.

Sweet, sweet, sweetness,
You left me here,
So sad and lonely,
But I love you
So don't worry about me.
Sweet, sweet, sweetness,
Now that I'm forgone,
I could still
And forever remember,
this bittersweet feeling you've done.

~I miss you already.. though we never really talked a lot. I didn't want you to leave but I want all of what is best for you. Haha, I must be crazy to do this. I even wrote a crappy poem. Gosh, I'm hopeless. I'm sorry for this.

I was sitting there, trying to drown myself with the busy yet diseased air. It will come, I thought but I was not sure what will come. Then I realized that it was never the whiteness. It has never been white, instead it was the palest shade of grey. It was as if someone turned on the lights that I could see. Disgusting grey. Like the papery skin of the dead and the dying. To burn and fade away into the ashes they tell. Incineration. Fucking fire.

I wanted to run away or to scream until my throat bleed out and I might miraculously die from the blood loss. Still, I doubt it. I bled for a night yet they managed to take me back.

Focus. I need to look fine or else. Or else what? They'll throw me in the nut house? But isn't that what I wanted in the first place? To rot with the dead ones like me until it is finally time for a funeral. But no, somehow, a tiny little voice whispers for salvation. Escape. Fucking lie.

What do you expect? I am a liar.

Oh god, this is going to be just like the old one, isn't it?

Fuck.

I'm getting more insane without sleep. My sleep is fucked up, I just turned daytime into nights. I'm awake all night. All fucking night with my thoughts..and I can't sleep at mornings since I have things to do..or things somebody would want me to do.

____________________________________________________________________________

~Fly with me some time, it'll be fun.~

I was feeling reckless so I got in my dad's car and drove someplace where there are totally no cars. For the life of me, I should not really drive. I get consumed with my thoughts/voices a lot that I will slip off from reality. You have to concentrate to drive--atleast safely. But no, I was feeling the wind in my face..drowning in my own mind until I turned into a sharp corner.

~Well, fucker, I thought you'd want to go.~