Saturday, October 31, 2009

S L E E P P L E A S E!

The words are pressing against my mind.
Fifteen minutes later, and every time I rest my eyes, I feel the words beating against the iron cage I once called a skull. So many words are seeking an exit, and I haven't enough time or a large enough vocabulary to set them free. So I sit - wide awake- at five a.m.

I hear footsteps coming from upstairs. They will blame my illness for my alertness this early. Their entire body will fill with worry when they observe me sitting here so happily awake in the early hours of the day. Without a wink of sleep, my body moves more energetically than ever before.

It is nights like tonight that I dream of normality. I think back to the words I have spoken and how realistic all of them were. I think back to how you believed I was lying, even though you refused to say so, I knew it. I read it on your face like the front page news.

Ohh, how tired my eyes have really become.

I really wish I could sail away into Dreamland tonight. I wish my mind would settle. I know this is an impossible reality though.

2 days to go.

The clock has reached 4:46, & I am still unable to sleep.
My mind has wrapped itself around the complex thoughts of my fate.
As the day has ended, and tomorrow has come - I am set to embark upon a new day.
Yesterday was filled with more tears than I have let free in so very long & tomorrow is destined to be filled with reunions and utter happiness... but then again, happiness is such a feeble concept.

I wish, so often, that there was a miracle pill to calm my mind.
I wish people understood the severity of my case. I watch them when they are observing me under their own little microscopes, and I watch their eyes as they go back and forth from angst to disbelief. I wonder what behaviors I have distributed or what words I have spoken that would leave one to believe I was lying? Who would lie about such imperiously wretched things.

I guess it doesn't matter. For in my soul, I, alone, know the severity.
And to admit aloud, that my greatest fear is me, myself, is one of the hardest issues I will ever encounter. I have high hopes that my week spent in the hospital will relieve this fear... but my hopes for recovery slipped long ago.

As I grow closer to concluding this entry, my eyes are growing more heavy. I wonder to myself though, if I will actually sleep soundly once my head hits the pillow - or if I will be up until the wee hours of the morning, yet again.

I guess there is nothing else to do but to ramble on within this entry... for I have very much convinced myself that sleeping is out of the question for tonight...

Oh, how I pray for normality.


Through marble eyes,
obliteration lies
Beneath an ideal coat.
Years. Days. Minutes. Seconds.
Existence is a hoax.
All duplicate into deception
Just waiting for the reception
Of such a mournful case.
Unblemished coverage
Hides blunders within.
As a faulty lens
Cons the populace to begin
Considering such an imprudent
Their souls are asking
How this go does so overlooked
When its opened up just like a book.
Foolish men stand all at sea
Searching for the evident key.
Unsure of what to do next.
They suppose this is a hex.
But they all situate so misguided
For the response is merely why did
The gods intend her so crooked?

Friday, October 30, 2009

F E A R.

My body has awoken me much earlier than normal this morning.
I have awoke in fear of the what the day has to bring. The radio tells me that Mother Nature has thunderstorms and harsh rain in the forecast for quite a few days to come - considering the circumstances this forces my heart to beat faster with nerve. What a gloomy day for such a terrible occasion. I figure it is best that I pack my things now. Prevent my parents the trouble of searching through my room. I figure it is best that I say my parting words now, in fear of the tears that shall break.
I wonder who will notify my teachers? my grandmother? my family? Will that be me too? Do they even really need to know? In actuality, they probably knew long before. I have been struggling with school for a very long while now. Maybe my stay will somehow miraculously help me with this. Either way - I have become rather sure my teachers are aware. I am sure that my parents would notify these individuals... I'd hope.
I am not set to leave until just after one this afternoon. I have awoken before the sun even, and I have no idea what I should do with myself. I could try to go back to bed, I'd suppose - but I"m not sure that I could. Each attempt at shutting my eyes, just ends in quite the tragedy. As my vivid imagination takes the front seat in my mind.
I feel both excitement and fear. Excitement - for the simple fact that this may actually work. I may be free of the monster whom has been destroying my soul for so long. And fear because it may not work. It may fail devastatingly. I would very much not like to fall subject to any of their experiments. I have decided to fake my recovery if I do not see my own results. This is the only way I can guarantee that I will break free into this hellhole of a world again.
I have been locked within my mind for so long, that I would hate to be locked away physically as well...
Oh, I feel the fear.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

H o s p i t a l.

The night has fallen again.
And I find my temptations to be drastically heightened.
Tomorrow, my temptations will drive me to the dreadful hospital, that I have spent so many years fearing. The hospital that I have spent time and time again imagining within my mind as a dark and gloomy place - only there to help me destroy myself a little more. However,
Tomorrow, I shall go and free myself from the monster that is slowly destroying me.
The monster that is eating my spirit alive. Emptying my body of my own soul, only to take it over for themselves. I tried to become friends with the monster several times before today, and every attempt I failed horribly. He just does not seem to like me.
For, I am deteriorating. Piece by Piece I am falling apart. I am like a puzzle that was once so perfectly together and is now falling vigorously to shreds. My creative drive is lacking. I imagine that upon tomorrow's arrival my mind will be somehow find a hint of salvation... but I cannot guarantee that.
For I have spent hours dreaming and years fearing this place. Though I have known for years that this was my destiny. I have known for days that I have been ill. And now, faster than lightening strikes the ground, I am being thrown to face all of my deadliest fears in the hopes of somehow improving myself.

It saddens me to think that this is my breaking point. That this is where I have ended upon my great map of goals. I have landed here in the Land of The Dead. For, that is what I am. I am dead. I am not in the least bit living. And tomorrow upon my arrival I shall somehow begin a miraculous recovery. Oh, what these doctors believe they can conquer here within the twenty first century. They must be fooling themselves, really. For, I am already gone.

My heart is beating, but my bones are barely standing any longer. As my hair sheds from my skull, and my kidneys ache in the most wretched pain - I am barely here any longer.

What an interesting journey lies ahead for me. How great full I shall be to encounter such a grand expedition. And yet, I am not.

I feel only fear.

Help Me.

The days are growing shorter again.
As my temptations are increasing much more rapidly, I am unable to distinguish, what it is exactly, that I am to do with myself.

I ponder my decisions. In the passing days I have attempted to do several things that would, certainly, place my life in jeopardy. Sadly enough, I have no idea why. The monster is my mind has grown more intrusive now. I imagine my thick white skull has somehow transformed into a massive metal cage, keeping all of my previous, more optimistic thoughts, captive.

I am no longer able to write, and this is placing an incredible amount of stress upon my soul. The words are trapped inside me, desperately trying to break free - and I have no idea as to how I should let them escape.

My thoughts spiral and revolve around those simple words that you have spoken. Whether you meant them with harm, which I am sure you did not, or you meant them with realistic truth - they have hurt me more than anything has in quite some time.

How is it that I am selfish? I wonder to myself so consistently. What have I done to you, or what behaviors have I distributed that provide you with this belief?

And why is that I will never make it as a writer? My drive is certainly more driven then any other persons may be. This is who I am now.
And you are slowly destroying that.