Never Return

The moonlight paints the ground before her with distorted shadows of the objects before her. The trees hang over her with a certain eeriness. She said it feels as if they are whispering about her, as if they are watching her. Her tender, bare feet leave perfect imprints in the dirt. A swirl of dust kicks up by her feet as she runs. The dark night seems to envelope her. She’s searching and searching as she runs further and further into the dark woods. The cold air fills her lungs. Her tears are streaming down her face and her eyes begin to sting. What happened to her? She spins around and lets out a cry. A cry for help, a cry of sorrow, a cry of grief. But the only things that hear her are the ever present moon and the night stars. Her screams bounce off of the trees, and the night sky with such a force that even shakes her to the core. Her echo is one that can be heard for miles. Her only solace is the one she thinks is above.

What is she running from? Why is she trying to hide? She finds that she is searching. Perhaps she’s searching for herself. Perhaps she’s searching for her own soul. She runs deeper and deeper into the woods, not knowing where she goes. Her hands are dirty, her feet are hurting. Her skirt has been ripped to shreds, exposing her bare legs. They are scratched and dirty. The blood is running down. Her face is now red. Her head is still spinning.

She can hear, but she can not see. She is nothing but a lost girl. A girl who’s running and running but can not find what she is looking for. She runs and thinks that she is so close, but she is always so far away. She’ reaching and reaching, but keeps straying further into the darkness. The silence is something that is killing her. It is something dreadful. The silence makes her think. The silence makes her realize. It’s too late to return now. It’s too late to go back. So she just keeps going, with the little power that remains. She keeps going, until she has nothing left.

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Unheard Words

The familiar click of the keys offer a little solace. I feel like I am back in my element. My mind has been running wild with thoughts that do nothing for my soul, except tear it down. As I sit here, I can not help but ponder on the past and attempt to decipher the future. What does it all mean? I attempt to take things day by day, but it feels like I should be taking them minute by minute. It seems that even in such a short amount of time, my world can and has come crashing down. Have you ever felt so lost? And so hopeless? I am sick of crying. My tears have stained my cheeks and painted my eyes red too many times. I keep hoping for some divine miracle. But, it seems that it is never coming. I fell down on my knees recently. I could not help but pray. I needed something or someone to listen to me. My words rang loud and clear in my mind. They produced an echo. I could not help but talk to and hope that some entity out there heard my concerns. But perhaps my words were only heard by my four walls.

Perhaps my words were only heard by the stars that I whisper to every night.

Ashes

The ashes are still fresh. There’s a cigarette that’s barely lit, smoke gracefully flowing through the air. My heart tells me you stayed. But, my mind knows better. I roll over, and all I see is your indent. The place where your body once was.

You left not too long ago.

I can’t help  but clutch your pillow, the smell of you is still there. It’s intoxicating, it’s nauseating. The sheets are a tangled mess among me, and so are my emotions. You have me and my body wrapped around your finger. You have a piece of my heart. You have left an imprint on my soul. My mind wanders back to last night as the warm tears stream down my eyes.

The way your fingers glided across me felt like electricity. The glisten in your eyes gave me a high. The way you spoke to me made my skin shiver. You have me mesmorized. You have my every move calculated.

The morning after leaves me bitter. That joyous ecstasy is gone. The high is no more. The crash is unbearable. The hurt has rattled me to my bones. Every being of me is in unbearable pain.

I stumble to the bathroom, utterly terrified to look at my reflection. The harsh, artificial light paints a horrible picture all over my face. I am disgusted with myself. How could I let you do this to me again? How could I believe all of those hollow words all over? The girl looking back at me is disappointed. I repeatedly get my heart ripped out by you like clockwork. It’s a never ending cycle of joy and pain. I love you, I do. But I also despise you.

I try to get myself together for the day ahead of me. I clean up the running, black mascara. My cheeks are puffy, and red from the leftover blush. My lipstick is long gone. I fix my matted afro just as the phone rings.

It’s you again.

Asking if I want a repeat of last night. You say you enjoyed yourself. The words that come out of your mouth sound like a beautiful poem. They are a melody. They ring throughout my ear and bounce around in my mind. An excitement comes over me. My mind tells me no, but I hear myself say yes.

I know I will regret this. It’ll be another morning of tears, anger, and regret.

But, there’s something in me that can’t stop making a deal with the devil.

My Reality vs My Story

I’ve always been a dreamer. I would create these worlds in my head that were highly detailed. There were different characters, and different situations. Usually these dreams would reflect how I wished my life would be. I’m sure everyone does this to a certain point. But for me I wouldn’t just imagine these dreams in my head. There would be so many nights when I would be alone in my room acting out these scenarios. I would laugh and cry on cue. I wasn’t Olivia anymore. I was whatever character my dream would require me to be. It was a way for me to become whatever I wanted to be. It was a way for me to distance my own self from my problems, and my life. But, the lines between my fantasy and my reality began to cross. I would find myself being excited to act out my story (that’s what I used to call it). I would rush to my room and just begin acting out the scene I had in my head. I did begin to pull away from my friends. My story became my life. It was all I needed. I could escape reality for however long I wanted to. It began to turn unhealthy, though. Now, I almost use it as a coping mechanism. If things are going awry in my life, I’ll retreat back into my story. It’s my security blanket. The characters and the life I have created mean something to me. But, I feel that I need to let it go. It’s a way for me to avoid my problems instead of facing them head on. My twisted logic is that I have my story so reality doesn’t matter. My story begins to become my reality. The essence of my characters and the real true me are hard to decipher. But, every time I think of letting of my story it brings me deep sadness. I always think that I’ll have nothing to fall back on when things aren’t going the way I want them to in my real life.

I’ve been searching for other outlets to rely on instead of escaping from reality in such a harsh manner. Maybe acting or writing more or painting. But, I haven’t found anything that gives me as much comfort and satisfaction as creating my story.

Conversations with Myself

“What do you love about me?”

“Oh gosh. Why do you ask me questions like this? I hate them.”

“Please, just answer the question. I just want to know. You can actually answer it, right? Or, do you actually have to dig deep for an answer? I didn’t think the question was hard.”

“Well, I find that the answer to your question changes. It may change hourly, daily, weekly, whatever. Some days the things that I love about you are your downfall. Sometimes the things that I love about you today are the things that I hate the next day. It’s complicated. Before, I used to crave and wish that you were someone else. I didn’t love you, and I rarely liked you. Your seemingly permanent insecurity was disgusting. It was something that I hated. There were always endless excuses on why you couldn’t and wouldn’t do something. They were hollow and baseless. Your thoughts were something that was vile. They poisoned you… I often wondered why you would do this to me…..”

“Are you just going to spew hateful things? The question I asked you was not relevant to your answer. Why must you always bring up those days. They are gone and they are buried. Tell me. What do you love about me? When you see me what emotions flicker and flutter across your mind and being? What thoughts consume you when you see me? What are the words you wish to tell me? Are my thoughts and actions still baseless and hollow? Or have they gotten some substance now? Surely there must be something within me that you love. Or do you just loathe every inch of me?”

“You’re never satisfied with the answer. Of course there are things that I love about you. I dare not hate every inch of your being. Do you feel as if I do? There are things that I love about you. In truth, there are many things. Well I’ll start off like this. I don’t want to randomly list things off that I love. You are not a bag of groceries that I must check off. There’s a certain type of comfort that I feel in you. Your being is simply intoxicating. Why? Ask yourself why isn’t it. The way your eyes glisten and gleam is lovely. You are learning to find a beauty in life now. I would say that is what I love the most. No, you are not perfect, and I will not tell you that. I have no urge to tell you that. However-

“Please stop. Your answer is vague. It seems generic, almost rehearsed. What is the honest truth? What is the honest answer? Maybe there’s more digging that needs to be done. Why am I even asking this question. What do you love about me… What a ridiculous question. I see the answer everyday. I answer my own question everyday… Nevermind. I wish to know no more. “

Tonight’s Nostalgia

There’s a certain nostalgic feeling that I get at this time of night. I’m not quite sure what brings it on. Although I try not to dig too deep into the reasoning. When it comes, I just enjoy it. The soulful voice of Amy Winehouse is very calming for me. The past few weeks have been interesting, and it’s nice to have a little moment of complete calm. For a little it seemed that everything in my life was in complete turmoil and falling apart. It felt like there would never be a way out. However, things have changed. I won’t say that the clouds have completely cleared away, but the sunshine is peaking through. Even so, I can’t believe that February has come and is almost gone.

As I sit here I can’t help but think about the people of my past. The many personalities that I’ve gotten to know, but eventually things just fall away. Perhaps we outgrow each other. In fact, as I walk around campus I occasionally see some old best friends. Sometimes we say hello and sometimes we do not. But, it’s crazy because I find myself reminiscence of past times. During those times we were inseparable. We knew each other like the back of our hands. The world was ours and there were endless possibilities for us. We made promises to always be together because we were best friends. Little did we know, a few years from then we would never even know each anymore. Now, we are virtual strangers to each other. You would never know we were ever friends at all. Sometimes it gets me a little sad. But, a part of me knows that it will never be the same. We have grown and evolved into different people. Different interests, different pursuits, different lives. But, what causes you to grow apart? It’s a gradual thing, I suppose. You just stop talking, and before you realize it… The friendship is gone. But, you never know. Life has a way of rekindling things. Perhaps we’ll cross each other’s paths again. Perhaps not.

I think of my past life lightly. I try not to analyze it. I try not to find reasoning and I don’t question it. I was a different person. My mind has changed, my outlook on life has changed. My outlook on myself has changed. I’ve lost some friends and I’ve gained some. But, the most important friend that I’ve gained is myself…

Well, that grand feeling of nostalgia has been replaced with a feeling of sleepiness. My eyes are getting increasingly heavy. My mind is getting quieter. I guess I’ll finish tonight with a little Back to Black.

Goodnight everyone

3 Reasons Why People Feel Insecure And How To Overcome Them

Thought Catalog

image - Flickr / lauren rushing image – Flickr / lauren rushing

Reason #1

Low Self Esteem: So you’re aware that your nose isn’t as straight as you’d hoped it would be or your thighs rub together when you walk. You look in the mirror and all you see is the mole that makes a triangle on your face or the strands of childish hair covering your forehead. You begin emanating that outward sense of awkwardness with your body and your inner self, until you eventually believe that all everyone sees are your flaws. This harbors a deep, underlying sense of insecurity which may make you spiteful and jealous towards others. When you’re in a relationship with someone and a cute girl or guy walks by, you’re immediately aware that the said passerby is “prettier” than you or is wearing a much better outfit than your current coveralls and T-shirt and you begin to wonder if…

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My Battle with Self Love

My insecurities are showing through. The habit of looking in the mirror and being disgusted with the girl looking back is here once again. The negative thoughts that plague me are running through my head at lightning speed. I’ve always struggled with major insecurity. The constant feeling of never being good enough. The constant feeling of always being second, third, or fourth best. The comparison between me and them is ever prominent. It’s almost like there is another voice inside of me that drowns out my own.

“You’re not good enough.”

“You could never do that.”

“Of course you messed up, you never get anything right.”

I try to replace the negative with the positive, but to no avail. The thing is, I’m not comparing myself physically. I am ok with the way I am on the outside. My problem is with my inside self. Many days I am not satisfied with the girl on the inside. I have so many demons that I need to put to rest. There are so many mistakes that I’ve made that I can’t seem to let go. My mind and soul suffer. There is a void inside of me that I can’t seem to fill.

Sometimes I try to fill the void with material things. Sometimes I try to fill the void with other people. I have this false sense of security in other people. I somehow think that if I surround myself with others then the void will be filled. Perhaps being the funniest in the group, being the most liked in the group will give me some sort of gratification for myself. Some sort of false and temporary love for the girl inside. But other times, I realize…

This void has to be filled by me. No amount of attention from others will fill the void. I can’t look for a sense of security from other people. Nobody can give me self love. Self love has to come from me. I come to realize that I am my own enemy, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. I can make myself, or I can break myself. Lately, I’ve been my own enemy. I feed the negative thoughts. I’ve learned how to be negative. I am the one holding myself back. But, habits are hard to break. If I can start little by little and replace one negative thought with a positive one, that’s a start. If I can build myself up, instead of tearing myself down, that’s a start. I know I can do it. I know I can live a more positive life. It will take time. I have to appreciate myself. I have to practice self love, instead of self hatred.

Tonight’s Drive

The drive home tonight was particularly numbing. The cars passed me in a blur as I reflected on all of the sins I’ve committed this week. Honestly, these couple of days haven’t exactly been in my favor. Well, this past month hasn’t exactly been in my favor. Sometimes I felt as if I couldn’t even face myself in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl that was staring back at me.

It was raining earlier and the wet, gloomy weather carried on into the night. Usually, the radio brings me comfort, but not tonight. The music that usually trickles and flows with a steady rhythm seemed annoying, and struck a nerve inside of me. There was a certain loneliness that I felt. It was the type of loneliness that no one can fill, and it felt like I can’t even fill it. I wanted some comfort and escape from these feelings that I was having. I needed some comfort because the negative thoughts and feelings I was having were killing me slowly. They were going through me like a poison.

Those thoughts are still killing me slowly. It feels a little overwhelming to say the least. I’m hoping as the night wears on, things will get better. Tomorrow is a new day…………

Goodnight.

Hello!

It seems that I got the bright idea to start a blog. Th sole purpose of this blog is to give a slice of life through my eyes. I started it to also express my feelings, and just to write. I enjoy writing (even though I’m not too good) but I find it much easier to write down my feelings instead of speaking. It’s very relaxing. I guess you could say this blog will be sort of like a diary!

Anyway, I hope whoever stumbles across my blog enjoys it. I hope my writings and thoughts are nice to read and relatable. I promise I have more posts to come. 🙂