*Mood: Imploding *
I mean it, from the minute I woke up things seemed blurry and gave me the fake fuzzy feeling of being awright, when au contraire, things where just crooked, weary, glowing and poisonous, which is kind of common for me, but not normal at all.
My room hasn't moved, my glasses haven't changed, the fridge hasn't died and my hands haven't lost any fingers, everything is the same, but nothing feels like that anymore.
I was floating, swimming on the thin atmosphere, gasping for air when it happened; as an avalanche came in. The though was unwelcomed, uninvited, unpleasent. It made me feel alienated. Came with such strenght that no wall could've stoped it. I knew, at the time, there wasn't mind powerful enough to make it quiet; it screamed to me, with the deep voice of memory and conscience, that I was the one who did it all wrong, the one who made the wrong assumptions, said the wrong words and had the wrong beliefs. It said I was the one who screwed everything up and run around messing up things; leaving them as twisted as I could just to feel like in home. A thought, as the words fell in place, took over my head: "I'm the bad guy of the motion picture, I'm the one people is supposed to hate, I am the girl no one should give a damn about", and felt right about it. As this voice yelled at me my mind opened, I could see with such clarity: the voice was right, I was wrong. I had never had such confidence in my self before. Had there been a priest I coul've convinced him god didn't exist. My words flew in front of my eyes and I belived them, for the very first time in years, I belived them, so could have the priest.
It forced me to think about all the little fights, all the times I tried to switch the lights off. It obligated me to pull from oblivion my mistakes. It made me realize the unworthy person I am, it made me wish to have switched the lights off as I intended on the first time. It made me crazy! All I wanted was to shout at the top of my lungs how sorry I
At the moment I blushed, yes I did; I blushed out of anger and shame. I blushed because I couldn't hear the words that could've saved us from all this trouble, I blushed because all I am is a pathetic waste of skin -as the song says- and there's nothing to do about it. Damn! I will never be awright and it will never be awright! You will never forgive me completely and, the part I hate the most, I understand if you can't, to be true, I don't think I can forgive my self either. All I can think is that I brought this upon my self and there's no way to come out. I'm trapped in my sick sad little world forever; the voice, the weirdness, the sadness and me.