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The following is a long rant, which you'd do best to ignore. Someone will end up commenting wither I want them to or not. Most people feel as if their input is needed in every statement made.
No matter how beautiful the memory, the faded voices and pictures will all sting. The regretful, painful, memories of torture and suffering will all hurt. But it is the memories of joy, loved ones, and the time you've spent, will hurt even more. For most of these memories refuse to be captured, and held onto. The loved ones lost, the blood spilt, and the tears cried will be the ones most vivid in your mind. I have reached a time in my acting life where I can go through the motions without thinking. No matter how blank-minded, how upset or troubled I truly am I can still come across as cheerful. The exclamation mark is still to far away for me to use. Nonetheless it appears as a lie, too much of a lie to use.
When the blood hungry sort me out from the bad and the good. I shall be less than the sum of my parts. Are we nothing more than whiny, pretentious little brats, who should really bite off their own tongue and fingers, to stop, the jagged, bitter flow? But yet not one of us can build up the nerve or the energy to do so. Pathetic, isn't it?
No matter how thick the air I breath, no matter what others do or say, no matter what I believe in or pray for, all of our prospective lives and futures look sickly and bleak. Life was never, meant to be fair. I complain about it here, the choice of reading this is of course optional. While I only wish to help those closest to me with their pain, sorrows, and sufferings, never did I sign up to be a therapist. Life after next; month for everyone is just simply a sequence of events not worth looking forward to. The face of the past haunts many, but the dark corners of the future scare and haunt so many more. If someone does not like you do not let them talk to you, and sure as hell don't talk to them. Neither should pretend to care, because deep down inside you both wish the worst. Pretending can only make the wounds deeper. But even then all wounds heal eventually.
I was raised in the boondocks. Competition meant everything to some. Where failing grades and a low income meant death, a slow, painful death. One such as being gnawed by flies and lizards. No such thing as a quick death is near, nothing like flying and falling to your death. But instead a slow, sure death. I would like to mean so much more to you.
I would like to dream there would be something there, but in order to dream you have to sleep. Growing up the way I did I learned three things, one, never disrespect an elder they can hit a lot harder than you can, two, if you love someone, tell them you do every moment you get, they might be gone the next day, and three, never cry, crying is a sign of weakness and it's a sign that can cost you a lot of pain and suffering.
None of us are pure kids, and we all know it. Can any of us understand why others assume we are pure? We all know what the word orgasm means, and several other words right along with it. But we can all just keep pretending. Some people in this world can just smile for no reason. But there are others, they come with dark clouds around their shoulders and wear a silvery smirk.
You should thank the people who bring pain into your life. They let you know that every waking moment around them you are worthless, and you mean not a damn thing to them. They let you know pain is real and it's a part of a harsh life.
People taunt, provoke, and insult, just to watch you lose it for a minute, they want to see you scream, cry, and smack your fist against the wall. They want to be reminded they're in control of you.
Everyone has a trigger it just depends on how the safety is set.
I’m not bitter, just tired. It’s really nothing to waste your breath on; it's only the truth.