We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Friday 20 January 2012

Orgasmic Epiphanies

I like playing with words. Over words, written words, not spoken words. I'm still a slave to the spoken word. I dance and jump and twist and bow whenever it commands, but the written word I am its puppet master. Pulling its strings and making them dance to whatever tune I dream up. 

I didn't realize how important it is for me to write here. Until I didn't and then did. After writing those few snippets of syllables yesterday I felt as if I had exhaled for the first time in a month. The pressure in my chest eased and the chaos in my mind slowed. I need to vent here more often even if it's senseless drivel. It helps to empty the vortex in my brain that seems to suck everything into it. In real life,I don't have a voice. At times I feel like I'm in a freak show on display. Seen but not seen. Maybe it's all in my head but it seems very real. Prying eyes of unwelcomed strangers staring at me. Whispering because they think I'm too stupid or ignorant to understand. Not knowing I can read every word they say and even the ones they don't. 

I'm sort of in a weird place. Living a life I don't hate but that isn't the exact of what I want it to be and not knowing how to solve this inbetween existance I've come to accept for myself. The last few weeks I've been numbing myself. Killing my emotions. Not letting myself feel. Just existing, breathing, day to day. Unfeeling. Moving from one stop to the next. Avoiding the real issues. Pretending I don't see them until they're too many and explode. Like they did the other night. Now I'm once again picking up pieces of me. Bits and pieces scattered here and there. Trying to collect them back into the whole of me. Filling up the empty bits, gluing together the broken ones. 

Yes I have to visit here more often. It's revitalizing. Better than Calgon.

2 comments:

Haven said...

I certainly hope you post here more often. I feel less alone when you do.

I don't know what I would do if I didn't have my blog. I write for myself all the time. Writing for an audience helps give me a greater perspective though. It's weird, but it helps so much just to get it out.

not displayed said...

I started to blog as an outlet and it remains that way.
My thoughts good and bad go there.
And I try not to edit later.

Writing has always been a good way to sort stuff in a persons head. Stuff you cant always say out loud.

My New Blog – “Lizard Happy”

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