i’ve never seen the desert before, to be so close to nothing

this one’s a doozy.

it just hit me like a truck while i was trying to fall asleep the other night: i wish i had killed my self years ago. i’ve wasted so much time on earth. i used to think i could be a different person if i was just in a different place. but i’ve lived long enough, and i’ve travelled far enough that i know i will never be able to change.

lol i will never be able to put my family through my suicide tho.

yet i can’t stop thinking about it when each day ends. i’m just tired, i tell myself each night at 1am. do you ever get so tired that suicide seems like the only option. lol i can sleep when i’m dead.

i will probably not kill myself. so who the fuck cares how much pain i am in, right?

sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt, and all that shit, right?

i broke down in the doctor’s office crying when the doc asked if i was okay, after i filled out the stupid depression questionnaire.

i just feel trapped, i told her.

and i do. i feel like a pathetic little animal. like i would rather chew off my own leg than live here. lol.

i love how everyone is okay with how much my life feels like hell, as long as i don’t kill myself and make them feel bad. it isn’t about me, it’s all about them. like people are always saying there are worse things than death, but they don’t believe it. people will say anything to me, all the lies, as long as i don’t make that final step off the edge.

as an abrupt change of subject, we ate indian food after the doctor. it was good and spicy. lol my mom is so oblivious to everything, good for her. she thinks today was a good day.

i would do anything to let everyone remain oblivious in my life. but my resolve is crumbling. i don’t know how much i can keep this shit up. i need to speak to two of my profs and ask them for some sort of leniency for my shit attendance and school-work ethic. the other one is the religion one and since i’m getting more than 100% in that class currently, i’m not too worried.

okay for now i’m done venting to myself. what a great way to end the day: whining.

and if love is a drug, i don’t want it, because i don’t have any self control

it’s midnight and i’m in the basement because it’s thundering a tiny bit and lucy is afraid.

i had the usual dream that has become rather unusual as my mind tries to buck away from its habitual obsessions to focus on new ones. the old ones, the old dreams are rare now, and made more precious because of it. also more poisonous.

i’m walking through a party, because i know you’re there. but you’ve left. i look everywhere, and you’re gone. you just left the room. you just turned the corner. it’s like a maze of other people smiling and laughing, and me, alone, looking for you. this time i don’t wind up outside in the snow and stars, the dream doesn’t reach this sad crescendo. it just ends with me realizing you’re not there, not anywhere near me.

the dream is a bit on the nose, lol. real life occasionally mirrors it. i find myself at get-togethers, too afraid to be obvious, to ask if you’re there. so i just wander, looking for you..and of course you’re never there. you’re somewhere else, living a different life. i guess i have to accept that.

the last time i saw you i was a different person with a different agenda, a different heart, a different mind. i didn’t know much about anything outside myself. i don’t even know who you are anymore, and i don’t know who, or how, to ask. i don’t even know why i held on to you in my mind, why i ever found comfort in thoughts of star-crossed love, brought to fruition. that path is gone. it’s dead, with all the others. i guess my mind just hasn’t caught up to reality, which is definitely a theme brought up in my life over and over.

sometimes i feel as though i don’t belong in reality anyway. i’ve spent some time apart and i don’t think it lives up to the hype. oh well. as everyone in my life keeps saying, it is what it is. and there is something so final and concrete about that, that i wanna fight it, because honestly that’s my place, i think, fighting things, ideas, concepts, truths. i sometimes just want to ignore the truth so i don’t have to fight it or accept it fully, but that never works for long. something always reminds me of you and i’m back on the stupid, gaudy, rococo train of thought that i’m pretty sure is love, and though everyone’s always spouting on about it, it is the saddest, most futile thing i’ve ever witnessed myself engaging in. so, as some wise, eloquent, probably long dead person said, that sucks.

and unfortunately i’ve found myself agreeing with the naysayers.

i’m here, and you’re merely a gesture in some vague direction to me. that’s how far apart we are, in body and mind. so yeah, sarah, give up, give in. this idea you hold is dead and you’re just sadly, obstinately oblivious to it half the time. and the other half you’re in mourning for it. just let go.

it is what it is.

have you ever had the feeling when you just don’t wanna breathe


IMB_DsInOV

don’t try to be anything basically. skill or creativity. just cuz you’re unique doesn’t mean you’re useful. just because something requires skill doesn’t mean it’s worth doing. that’s like everything. let’s all just lie in the grass and die. oh wait the grass is dead too? dry cold and scratchy? well might as well do whatever, live however, ’cause we’re all just kind of stuck on this marble, whether we know it or not.

an unknown bass jolts around me. i’m listening to an unrelated song through earbuds. im on my way to dell rapids. another hour? another hour. i’m runnin on coffee still. it’s ’bout 10:45pm.

whenever i’m confronted with a new instance of waiting i realize i could wait forever, that in fact I’ve been waiting all along.

a night landscape pair of eyes, all darkness and stupid stumbling in them. a feeling of fear, wanting to hide in some light.

dressed in noncommittal shades of grey, under a blush pink parka. A shirt with a feline grim reaper: ‘meow you must die’ swirling around it.

staring into the abyss of the sky. a spotlight glances dimly off the clouds. looking for a god? none to be found.

the way to meet in avoca was nice. once there, me and brent ate at a diner. i had a veggie omelette, no mushrooms. he had a slice of pie. then like forever later my dad, liz and thomas showed up. and the rest is basically just as mundane. greetings, farewells, and shivering in the cold. then leaving, and more stupid road.

molly finally settled down. their dog, a puggle. she spent an hour looking up at me, whining. she loves seeing people she hasn’t seen in a while.  dumb adoration, returned. i was actually a little worried about her she was so beside herself.

so my cousin’s car accident was apparently pretty bad. she swerved to miss a deer. they always say to just hit it if you have to, that it won’t be as bad for you. how do you judge if you have to tho? i’d probs swerve, in the moment, every time. im dumb like that. nichole was too this time. the truck rolled three times. she’s lucky to be alive. she will probably be in the hospital another several weeks. life is weird in the way it’s a complete bitch sometimes. the deer has not been heard from.

lol molly is back to whining at me.

and we are suddenly there.

grandma’s dogs patty and bella greet us with their barks. patty is a sleek grey weimaraner, bella is a black lab, pitbull mix. they’re both strays that wandered into my grandma’s life, so i’m basically guessing on bella’s heritage. though patty has the typical nervous, taut disposition of a weimeraner, because she is one. she’s so attached to my grandma, it’s eerie.

my grandma seems as ever-moving, busy as always. my grandpa looks like he is fading, bleeding color, seemingly unnoticed by everyone around him. i’m not being callously poetic, looking at him makes me feel deeply sad. his oxygen can be heard hissing, “breathing”, throughout the house.

okay.

it’s about 1:20 in the morn’. i’m done, i’m going to bed. i will have the designated “front bedroom”, called so because it is at the front of the house. it’s just like being a child again except my nerves are buzzing and i have heartburn.

all i’ve forgotten to take from home are face wipes, which is a pain but liveable. i’m brushing my teeth, washing my face the old fashioned way, and going to bed. well actually i’ll probs wait til everyone else is in bed, then sneak around. i feel weirdly shy and kind of uneasy. so it’s a typical 1:30 in the morning for me, really.

 

what it is and where it stops nobody knows

i read a book once, the dream merchant. it was about children who worked for a company that sold ideas through the dreams of humanity, going back through time. a beautiful, nice book, but such a dangerous idea. selling ideas to people. ideas are dangerous. people are imperfect and i think they are poor holders of ideas. i for one do not want to be the poster child of my own ideas, as i am imperfect. i would be a terrible spokesperson for positivity, for self-love, even though i try my damnedest to love myself and to be positive. that’s why we love to hate on celebrities and politicos. they are such poor representations of their own ideas. people are so fickle, flighty, epically ephemeral things.

like flames in the dark dark world, we are all so swayed by the winds of societal pressures and internal strife.

i’m just blathering away here really. it’s just that sort of day.

but really i just hate propaganda lately. it all comes back to my freaking twitter feed in the end.

 

a mess he don’t want to clean up

i remember when i was younger. i was so confident and carefree before the shit hit the fan that it’s hard to comprehend that i’m the same person i was then. i’ve cut ties with everyone who ever befriended me, everyone who gained even a modicum of my trust. it’s what i do. it is what i excel at. i used to want to build bridges, now i burn them. i don’t know if it is ptsd or the depression or just plain ole anxiety that they will hurt me. i just miss having friends.