Posts tagged ‘AFI’

The Great Disappointment

*Warnings: Suicidal ideation*

Who I am is bad, that much has been obvious since the day I was born. I wonder if accepting this would make life until eventual death easier? Most of the time, I spend my energy trying to fight that, and it’s hard. Maybe it would just be easier to give in, stop fighting. I don’t see the worth in fighting anymore.

To some extent, I know I go through cycles of feeling this way and then not feeling this way. So I know this horrible feeling will eventually lessen and recede into the back of my mind again, until something else bad happens. But I’m always keeping my ledger book of whether or not life is worth it, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, I’m always waiting to be a disappointment to someone else.

Most of the time, the ledger book balances, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. I don’t think life has ever come out ahead, except for brief stolen moments of happiness, but usually life and death even out often enough for life to be relatively worth it. Death takes effort. Why put effort into something that hasn’t totally failed?

Every so often, things feel really difficult, the ledger book isn’t balancing, and I put more thought into giving up. When I was teenager, I used to drive to school or gymnastics and fight really strong urges to drive myself at high speed into an oncoming car or a barrier or a telephone pole. I never did it because I couldn’t guarantee that I would die, and I figured what would most likely happen is that someone else would get hurt, like with drunk drivers, it seems to always be the person who didn’t do anything wrong that gets hurt or killed. The other reason I never did it was because humans hang on to hope like nothing else. Parts of me still hope that things will be better at some point in the future, and if only I just wait long enough, I’ll get to see it.

Those urges went away for a while, and things sort of did get better. Then they got worse, but that’s a different story… But now, I’m back again. I walk to work and spend the whole time wondering if it’d be worth it to jump in front of the stupid American drivers on the highway. But, same thing, I probably wouldn’t die, they probably would be more hurt, and I’d scar them for life. Then I spend the nights contemplating my new chef’s knives and how selfish it is to kill yourself via high speed train in Britain but how tempting it would be despite knowing you’d give the poor driver PTSD, emotionally injure the workers who have to clean up your bloody, splattered bits, and delay every single person on that train or wanting to use that line. At least you’d for certain be dead and no one else would be physically hurt.

At least I don’t have any access to drugs this time, haha. Though, that doesn’t seem like a very good way to go anymore. I think now I’d rather jump off a cliff or something. So I’ll probably spend the next bout of miserableness considering whether or not I should actually do anything, and before I can make a decision, it’ll lift and I’ll wonder if I just dreamed it all.

But while I wait for that to happen, I once again turn to one of my major comforts, AFI.

Lie in the comfort of sweet calamity with nothing left to lose. Lie in the darkness, I’m slowly drowned to sleep with nothing left to lose. I retrace the steps that led me here but nothing’s left behind me. So I lie in this field bathed in the light that loves me with nothing left to lose. Will be my, be my beloved? Will you help, help me to get through? Will you be my, be my destruction? Will you help, help me to be through?

Am I the star beneath the stars? Am I the ghost upon the stage? Am I your anything? I saw a star beneath the stairs glowing bright before descent. And in the morning, there was nothing left but what’s inside of me. And I don’t want to die tonight, will you believe in me?

Yesterday I burnt the sky. Looked to the ground and wrapped it around me. Still today I have so much to burn. Yesterday I longed to die. Fell to the ground, and the ground caught me. Now today I question why I fell. I fell. So what can help me to understand somehow why it always pains me to breathe?

I am exploring the inside. I find it desolate. I do implore these confines, now as it penetrates, recreate me. I crumble in these days. If you listen – listen, listen – listen close – beat by beat – you can hear when the heart stops –  I saved the pieces – when it broke – and ground them all to dust. I know what died that night, it can never be brought back to life, once again, I know. I know I died that night, and I’ll never be brought back to life, once again, I know.

I lay strewn across the floor. Can’t solve this puzzle. Every day another small piece can’t be found. I lay strewn across the floor pieced up in sorrow. The pieces are lost, these pieces don’t fit, pieced together incomplete and empty.

I cannot leave here, I cannot stay. Forever haunted more than afraid. Asphyxiate on words I would say. I’m drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue. There are no flowers, no not this time. There’ll be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. I’d show a smile, but I’m too weak. I’d share with you could I only speak just how much this hurts me. I cannot stay here, I cannot leave. Just like all I loved, I make believe. Imagine heart, I disappear, seems no one will appear here and make me real. I’d tell you how it haunts me, cuts through my day and seeps into my dreams.

Will you join me in this dance, dance of misery? Will you lend yourself  to beauty that will horrify?

Of late, it’s harder just to go outside to leave this deadspace with hatred so alive. I watch the stars as they fall from the sky. I held a falling star, and it wept for me, dying. I feel the falling stars encircle me now as they cry. It won’t be alright, despite what they say. Just watch the stars tonight as they, as they disappear, disintegrate. Will not be alright…despite what they say…just watch the sky…when stars go out.

Six figures enter. They’ve come to destroy the world. They’ve called together this storm almost every night, and I awake in another place. Familiar voice with a stranger’s face speaks more unheard words.

While I waited, I was wasting away. Hope was wasting away. Faith was wasting away. I wasting away. Never, never wanted this.

Don’t waste your touch, you won’t feel anything. Or were you sent to save me? I’ve thought too much. You won’t find anything worthy of redeeming. Look what I’ve built. It shines so beautifully. Now watch as it destroys me. I saw its birth, I watched it grow, I felt it change me. I took the life, I ate it slow, now it consumes me.

 

A Little Bit of Slash, A Little Bit of AIM… (Pt 1)

Dom and I are one of those couples, the kind that met on the internet. It’s not such a strange, sleazy thing anymore, though, thankfully – heck, even my amom met her boyfriend through eharmony – but I do still feel weird saying it when people ask that inevitable question.

And our story goes even further off the beaten track. We didn’t meet on an internet chatroom or even through a forum, though we were both members of the same forum. No, we met because Dom wrote angsty slash fanfic in a fandom we were both in, and I enjoyed his fics. One in particular I loved so much that I overcame my reluctance to talk to strangers and IM’ed him one fine day in late 2006 to talk about the story. That initial conversation introduced me to a person I was intensely curious about. I didn’t want to stop talking to him.

At first, we only talked via IM for a few hours every day. I’d search my mind for things to say or talk about every time the conversation started to draw to a close, desperate to keep it going. I couldn’t get enough. Eventually, we both liked talking to each other a lot and neither of us wanted to let go, so I put AIM on my work’s computer and talked to him every chance I got there, too.

After a couple years of friendship, we both wanted to meet up. Going to England has always been a dream of mine, and it worked out well that he’s British. After I’d moved out of my fDad’s house in February 2008, I was able to save up money. By September, I had my passport, and we were talking about when the best time for me to come. Since he had another American friend over for Christmas the last year, he wanted to do that again. He got permission from his family, and I booked my tickets. I was going to spend two weeks over the holidays in England, definitely a dream come true.

I’d been wanting to move to be closer to my own and only same-state friend for months, and I decided the perfect time to finally do so would be when I left for England. I quit my job, packed up my apartment, ready to move everything when I came back, and headed to the airport on December 18th. Unfortunately for me, the North was in the middle of snow storms. Flights were cancelled and delayed, and I spent the night in a tiny airport because of that.

Luckily I was able to fly out the next day. Someone didn’t show up for their flight, and I took their seat. I was on my way, finally. I don’t remember the flight. I’ve flown transatlantic too many times now, and they’ve all sort of bled together. But I do remember how incredibly happy I was (and am every single time) to see that English countryside. It’s so amazing. England is the best place on Earth.

Immigration was, as usual, scary, but I made it through quickly. I answered all their dumb questions about who I was seeing and why. When I made it through, I called Dom, and he and his Dad were on their way to pick me up. I wandered around the front area for a while, looking at all the trains and the people and listening to the accents and smiling at the “bobbies” and the iconic red post columns. Definitely a dream come true.

Finally, Dom arrived. Despite my paranoid worries, I recognised him immediately, though we’d never met in person, and we shared an excited it’s-nice-to-meet-you-finally hug. (Then I got to stare at his blue/green eyes for the entire journey home.) Greetings and introductions done, Dom and his Dad took some of my luggage and led me to the car park so we could go home.