Where we live...

Long has it been since I've felt the urge to pick up my pen (lol, internet pen) and write down the dark thoughts in my heart that are bursting to be released. This may be short or it may not. But this one's for me.

Today, I want to talk about what it's like to give everything you have to something. It is, sadly, an idea that is thrown around far more than it is lived. It is so romantic to think that a person has given so much that they have nothing left. But it's an impossible achievement. So long as we draw breath, there is more to give. However, let's descend a little further into what a monumental undertaking it is to give until it feels like there's nothing left.

Giving it all...

It's not for the faint of heart.

It's that despair that you're going to fail but still putting everything you have into your efforts.
It's letting go of your own broken heart to tend to the hearts of others.
It's cleaning everyone's lives as the dust settings on the clutter of your own.
It's the never-ending compulsion to ease others' fears while your own run rampant.
It's fending off their nightmares while living in your own.
It's smiling for the ones you love when you can hardly choke back the sobbing.
It's compassion when all you feel is indifference.
It's offering love when all you feel is seething hatred.
It's letting go of what you want to ensure that they have what they need.
It's planning your week months ahead of time, so that your day lines up with theirs.
It's late nights trying to figure out what's best for them without impeding their autonomy.
It's concessions.
It's so many concessions
It's selling your own soul to give someone a chance to flourish.
It's the extra effort you're willing to put forward when someone else can't.
It's the extra effort you're willing to put forward when someone else won't.
It's midnight food drives.
It's midnight coffee trips.
It's waking up in the morning and wanting to quit but being unable to surrender.
It's losing your bloodiest battles to pave the way for them to win their war.
It's offering everything you want for them.
It's telling your own family that your time is better spent somewhere else.
It's submission.
It's hating yourself for the things you do that make them better off.
It's the cuts, scrapes, and bruises that you suffer willingly everyday.
It's early mornings when you already had late nights.
It's becoming friends with people you don't even like.
It's a lifestyle of love.
It's relinquishing yourself.

The list goes on but I do not. Everyday I make the commitment to give everything I have. Everyday I carry everything I can for those I love. I do it willingly. I do it gladly. It only hurts when they offer me help or ask me not to shoulder the burden alone... then turn away when I try to share it.

Giving everything is awful. It's nothing short of everything. Absolutely. Everything.

I'm tired. I don't want your pity. I don't want your words. I only want you to understand.

"There's a difference between interest and commitment. When you're interested in doing something, you only do it when it's convenient. When you're committed to something, you accept no excuses; only results."- Kenneth Blanchard

Are you afraid of the dark?

The darkness creeps. I always feel it looming on the borders of my consciousness. It waits, patiently, for any opportunity to strike. It waits for any chink in my armor, any moment of weakness. I fight it, of course. It's a never-ending battle for me.

But I allow the darkness in. I welcome it into my heart and I encourage it to do what it does.

...But only on my terms and when I allow it.

Tonight, the vacuous void is forcing itself upon me uninvited and unwelcome. Therefore, I write about it.

It is very difficult to keep one's head up when the skyscrapers of one's existence topple one by one. When everything we know (or think we know, right?) fades and the truth is free and able, it makes one feel so foolish for putting their faith somethings and someones.

As a human who spends a lot of time reading others and trying to understand the motivations and psyches of others, it always comes as a blow when I'm wrong. Yes, I've been wrong before and it seems like that's a trend that, albeit rare, will continue. That's ok. That's life. But it hurts. But when I'm wrong about someone I've invested in, someone I had such high hopes for, someone in whom I saw what could have been a very, very bright star... Well, when I'm proven wrong there, it leaves a scar. Again, that's ok. Scars heal over time.

But right now the pain is all too real. It permeates from my very being. It makes me feel every bit my age and then some. I don't hand out my faith easily. I don't trust. I don't give myself anymore. The few times I do, it's only been because I have the utmost confidence in another human being. It's because I absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, have seen something in them, something gleaming so brightly that it overshadows any faults they may have, that I simply cannot be without them.

It hurts because I believed. It hurts because I know it will be even harder for me to believe again.

“Believe me, every heart has its secret sorrows, which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad.” –Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Hyperion

"...we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."

Listen up, maggots. Your relationship is not special. You two are not beautiful or unique snowflakes. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

You're not your significant other. You're not how many years you've been together. You're not "destined" to be together. You're not any of the plans you made for the future. You're not your fucking relationship.

Welcome to Relationship Club. The first rule of Relationship Club is: you do not give up your identity. The second rule of Relationship Club is: you DO NOT give up your identity! Third rule of Relationship Club: everyone you know yells "stop!", you go limp, someone taps you out, the relationship is over. Fourth rule: trust the people who've earned it. Fifth rule: one relationship at a time, fellas. Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: Relationships should not go on just for the sake of going on. And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first time at Relationship Club, you don't have a fucking clue about how to fight.

The relationship you own ends up owning you.

Tyler Durden: We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.

Sometimes, once in awhile

Sometimes I'm really not as brave and confident as I pretend to be.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I'm really, really just need to be told that it's alright.
Once in awhile, I let everything I keep buried surface, and it turns me into this crazy depressed person that gets cranky and mean because it's really hard to handle all of that crazy without throwing it at somebody.
Once in awhile, I'm really scared.
Sometimes I wish I could scream and cry all these thoughts in my head and make them go away.
Sometimes I wish I didn't have to put on my face every day because I've stupidly put myself in place and life where people actually depend on me.
Once in awhile, I really want people to figure these things out on their own.
Once in awhile, I really want figure these things out on my own. It infuriates me that I can't.
Sometimes I want to just shrink away from everything because I don't feel like I can handle it all.
Sometimes I wonder how I got where I am now.
Once in awhile, I need a hug.
Once in awhile, I regret everything.
Sometimes I'm scared of myself.
Sometimes I'm scared of everyone else.
Once in awhile, I just want to run away from everything.
Once in awhile, I need a clean slate because I feel like everything just so dirty.

I'll always deny it.

Carpe Mortem

My mind grips at insubstantial notions.
It has memories that have never been experienced.
It knows people it has never met.
It spins these tales that linger within the confines of my mind, refusing to leave.
Distinguishing fantasy from reality becomes an ever burdensome task... right?
I've always thought that life should be as I want it to be. That's selfish.
Do I think that's selfish, or do the morals that I've been infused with believe that?
We do good things because we're told to? We do good things because they're good? We do good things because we receive psychological satisfaction from them?
Who am I to judge?
I'm the master of my goddamned universe, that's who. Who are YOU to judge ME?
For all I know, you could all be parts of my imagination, dancing to a tune you can't hear, doing my bidding without me even knowing it.
I hate people and I love people and I really wish everyone would just disappear but then I'd be very lonesome. Very lonesome indeed.
Impasse.
Stretch pass.
Password.
Word games.

Figure it out. If there's anything to figure out.

Every day

Every day I sit on the edge of the cliff with my feet dangling over the edge.
Every day I listen to the waves crashing; rhythmically and methodically.
Every day I lean forward, looking down towards what can only be my end; always wondering what it would feel like to just slide a few inches forward.
Every day I cower back, unable to take that next step.
Every day I get back up and walk back to the world that waits for me; but I always look back as I go.
Every day I loathe leaving my perch, my haven.
Every day I know I'll come back to sit, listen, lean, and cower.

"I don't know where you're going
but do you have room for one more trouble soul?" - Fall Out Boy, Alone Together

Pay attention when I'm talking to you.

June 18th, 2012
A contractor named Saeed Fashafsh, father of four, was killed in a terrorist attack along the border between Israel and Egypt.

July 18th, 2012
Iranians bomb an Israeli tour bus in Bulgaria. Seven people are killed; thirty-two are wounded.

November 15th, 2012
A rocket from Gaza hits an apartment building in Kiryat Malachi. Three people are killed; many more injured INCLUDING infants.

This small list is just the number of attacks on ONE ally country that included civilian deaths during a single year. During my search, I found many, MANY more that included injuries only and soldier casualties. That's one country. One little country in the middle of land that's in a constant state of chaos.

Every single day there are children who don't know if their parents are going to come home from work. There are parents who have no idea if their children's schools are going to be there when it's time to pick them up.

Nobody spares a second thought for these people. Nobody even knows that these atrocities happen. But God forbid it happens in our backyard. Suddenly we care, suddenly we're aware that these things happen again. Fuck you guys. Fuck all of you.

You should be ashamed of yourselves for your attitudes towards terrorism. It doesn't JUST happen in the United States.  Those injured aren't JUST Americans. I'm not saying that we shouldn't be mourning those lost. I'm not saying that this is excusable. What I -AM- saying is that we should all consider ourselves lucky to live in a place where you don't have to be scared of blowing up EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY.

I see it because I'm paying attention.
I see it because only one blind motherfucker could miss it.
I see it because I care for the entire world, not JUST MY OWN FUCKING BACKYARD YOU XENOPHOBIC FUCKERS.

I'll make all the puns and jokes I want, you sons of bitches.

Hoody. Out.