All the quotes in this post are from Memoirs Of A Teenage Amnesiac by Gabrielle Zevin.
Nothing seems to be like before...and i cannot recall who i was before everything crashed down. Was i happy? or, am i happy now?
i don't know what to do, feel or think anymore.
It is something...i cannot find an answer to and i get the feeling that if i could pinpoint the cause behind this madness inside my head, i might be able to make sense of everything. But i can't remember...what was it? Was there anything at all, in the first place?
It's like when you take a trip with some one you don't know very well. Sometimes, you can get close very quickly, but then after the trip is over, you realize all that was a false sort of closeness. An intimacy based on the trip more than the travellers.
i meet people everyday, but no one makes an impact. Its like i am vapour and they pass right through me. Some of them genuinely try (or maybe they just seem to) to be my friend...but i don't think i need anyone anymore. i just want to be alone...i don't want to hear about how i am capable of so much more. What's the point of telling me that when i don't even believe it myself?
Last night, i pulled out all the emotional plugs and let it all out, i know it seems crazy and i am NOT suicidal but i went to the roof and walked on the edge with the clammy wind hitting my face, mascara stains on my face. God! what a rush. Every time i felt i was going to slip and fall, my heart leapt.You know, like i was suddenly alive.
In my opinion wounds are like water set to boil — They heal best when left unwatched.
Mum called me up from another city, and when i heard her voice...i broke down. i told her how everything was going wrong, i told her about the 'friends' who i wished i'd never met, i told her that i feel so unwanted and i told her i wished i could just turn back time, become that weird kid again, who roamed with her black dog in the chilly mountain rain. She told me to have faith in GOD. Its not that easy...i have lost faith in humanity, and God is...i don't know.
Dear God, i don't know if you read my blog or if you have internet in heaven. But everyone says, you watch over me every second and i used to feel your presence and i used to talk to you too...but i can't feel you anymore.
Are you still there with me? Do you still care about me, God? Are you mad at me too?
Please tell me what to do...i think i am running out of the will to live anymore. But i will hold on till you come back.
Now when i talk to you...i feel silly cuz i think you have more important things to worry about but sometimes i get very messed up and no one can comfort me.
So, if you have time please come watch over me, i think i really need you.
Love you, God. i hope you love me too. Amen.
Sayonara
 |
| "What were you like," i asked her, "Were you happy? or were you smiling because they told you to?" |
i don't know what to do, feel or think anymore.
It is something...i cannot find an answer to and i get the feeling that if i could pinpoint the cause behind this madness inside my head, i might be able to make sense of everything. But i can't remember...what was it? Was there anything at all, in the first place?
It's like when you take a trip with some one you don't know very well. Sometimes, you can get close very quickly, but then after the trip is over, you realize all that was a false sort of closeness. An intimacy based on the trip more than the travellers.
i meet people everyday, but no one makes an impact. Its like i am vapour and they pass right through me. Some of them genuinely try (or maybe they just seem to) to be my friend...but i don't think i need anyone anymore. i just want to be alone...i don't want to hear about how i am capable of so much more. What's the point of telling me that when i don't even believe it myself?
Last night, i pulled out all the emotional plugs and let it all out, i know it seems crazy and i am NOT suicidal but i went to the roof and walked on the edge with the clammy wind hitting my face, mascara stains on my face. God! what a rush. Every time i felt i was going to slip and fall, my heart leapt.
In my opinion wounds are like water set to boil — They heal best when left unwatched.
Mum called me up from another city, and when i heard her voice...i broke down. i told her how everything was going wrong, i told her about the 'friends' who i wished i'd never met, i told her that i feel so unwanted and i told her i wished i could just turn back time, become that weird kid again, who roamed with her black dog in the chilly mountain rain. She told me to have faith in GOD. Its not that easy...i have lost faith in humanity, and God is...i don't know.
Dear God, i don't know if you read my blog or if you have internet in heaven. But everyone says, you watch over me every second and i used to feel your presence and i used to talk to you too...but i can't feel you anymore. Are you still there with me? Do you still care about me, God? Are you mad at me too?
Please tell me what to do...i think i am running out of the will to live anymore. But i will hold on till you come back.
Now when i talk to you...i feel silly cuz i think you have more important things to worry about but sometimes i get very messed up and no one can comfort me.
So, if you have time please come watch over me, i think i really need you.
Love you, God. i hope you love me too. Amen.
Sayonara
A living boy lives in a world opaque from both within and without but is transparent to voices. The world is a happy place with just one more unique inhabitant. The living boy assumes comfort in this world. He does whatever his heart desires. Many a times he ad libs. But there are times of omnipresent voices. They talk of potential, responsibilities, success, shame, dishonour. The other unique inhabitant throws voices too. These voices carry stories of Ubermench, of glory, of power. These stories are schizophrenic; the outside voices are turbulent. The living boy has always lived in this world. He breaks out of it. The outside world is absurd. Sense sublimates. The sources of the outside voices take him in, smother him with emotions. 'I could morph nonsense into sense in my world; here they don't matter' said the living boy to himself. 'Why should I live?' wonder the living boy. He sought the answer in every nook and cranny and found seven more absurdities. The living boy lived no longer in any world. He embraced the absurd, put on a hat and left his home forever and ever.
ReplyDeleteYour words have inspired mine twice. They are my muse. Thank you.
ReplyDelete