everything is a murderer
--- by Blue
the clock has been numbering the hours that i would have to spend in my fragile body. this scraggly lump of flesh that are not much and are more of bones would not last long, i bet. hoping for the best is fruitless as well. i sow seeds of wishes and dreams, yet i only harvest disappointments. the garden has been bleak. the farm basically barren. i could not stand the sight so i watered them with my tears every chance that i get. every instance that i take a short peek. it is an endless cycle.
time has been out to kill me at the second that i was born. bounty hunters tried to follow its example to take more of what the measly years i have left.
- anxiety. it is my worst enemy. it is like the ultimate last boss in a game of my life that i would like to instantly list on something that i can physically read so i may leave it out of my head. pour out from the illussions of a ceramic teapot to see that it is real and not just a fantasy that i have conjured out of my invisible fears. it eats my soul alive everyday. it exhausts me to no end. it should have been a wanted criminal. but to those who should've cared? it is but my imagination. the complaints of a naive brat.
- sleepless nights. they are the daughters of an anxious mind. i would have wanted to be rid of them, if i could. but sometimes i can't. the mind does what the mind doesn't want. it is but another irony i wish i didn't have. these little devils make you feel like you're wasting time with every wink. they do not only poison your brain, they lower everything else too. it makes you seem useless to people who have it normal. the people who likes the buzz brought by the sun more than the humming crickets brought by the stars and the moon. i love it on often occasions actually. i could have more of my worth that way. but this world is for normal people. it is not for people like me.
- the voices. i do not know who they are. all i know is they are evil. they are in my head. they haunt me. they talk to me when i am alone and when i feel like i am alone. so i do anything to feel like i'm not, even if all that's all i ever really wanted. or is it?
- what i eat. they're poison. but what choice do i have? i don't. sometimes, what you get is all there is.
- what i don't eat. should i name a few? breakfast. lunch. dinner. wow. that sure says a lot. it just seems like i'm to selfish to eat something i didn't work for.
- what i do. they drain my energy. they exhaust me. sure, i feel so alive when i do them. but after that, you just realize that you feel like dying and you are dying. what then is the purpose of all that i've accomplished? i don't know. self validation suddenly sounds so selfish. am i allowed to be selfish? on the other hand, other's validation makes me sound needy. but what use are the praises i don't hear in front of my face? they talk all about it to strangers i don't know. what about to me? shouldn't i be the one to hear it first?
- what i don't do. you do it. you don't do it. it works both ways.
- me. it's me, isn't it? maybe it noticed. there are a lot of killers out for me. why not just be the one to take off their responsibility? this would be the perfect moment to qoute taylor swift. but i don't think i can do that. my brain doesn't want to compare. it's stupid, i know. but that just stresses our the problem even more. don't you think that's perfect?
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