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Why do people do the things they do?
My thoughts go around and around in my mind. They move forward and back, the uroboros condemned to always eat it's own tail. The day and night dancing for all eternity ever apart but drawn together. My mind drifts away, the more I struggle the less I make sense.
Yet when I look upon the chaos and disease of humanity, all I feel is a heavy disappointment.
We forces of nature, we dragons, nymphs, dryads and fae. We who were the guardians of the earth, we left it in humanity's charge, deeming they to be best suited to look after it. In the few short millennia thereafter, they forgot. They forgot what had been so precious to them, life.
Now all that remains of that love is toward humanity. They now rape, plunder and destroy not only each other, but they are dragging the rest of the world down with them. Very little of humankind truly respects nature as they ought to.
We true children of the earth, we terra indigene return in this age of need. We return and hide in the guise and form of they we trusted oh so long ago. But now I see that was a mistake, all the signs were there. Heck, I was even told repeatedly not to take the course of action that I did. But I did not listen, or if I did I chose not to accept it. I see it now in hindsight, all of the pain and suffering could have been prevented.
The future is what we make it to be, the past is what we make of it, the present is what makes us.
My brain keeps me up at night, always it does this. Why do I lie in bed with my eyes closed for two hours before my mind settles for the sleep cycle that is required for it to function. Oft times it is simply just me lying in bed seeing myself as I truly am as well as FREAKING SITTING ON MY TAIL AND CRUSHING MY WINGS.
I don't trust people, never have. I don't trust my family, my friends, my psychiatrist. Oh sure the psychiatrist says that there is a doctor-patient confidentiality; hah, I know that they report all "interesting cases" to the government. Then those people disappear off the face of the earth, they're ghosted, gone. Never to be heard from again. And If a child confides in their psychiatrist, the psychiatrist tells the parents.
I don't trust myself, I never pulled myself out of depression, I wasn't pulled back from the abyss by any doctors or medical professionals. I just got good at hiding it. Even before I got busted for cutting. The pain felt... good, It was nice to feel something, anything, at all, that's all it was to me. It was being able to feel.
Even now as I type this I have suicidal thoughts. I wish I would be able to miss the ground when I fall but alack I will not. I will wall on my knees and sit there in pain. No tears just pain. I wish I could cry. Just as other folks do. I just can't cry, no matter what I do, I can't cry. I am too strong for my own good. I have to be strong, for my brothers. I feel like I should cry but the tears don't fall. I'm tired, alone and tired in a crowded, wakeful world. Always on the go, people need to slow down and take the time to appreciate the roadside. take the time to actually notice the people that surround them.
My mouth runs itself off. Spouting random trivia, facts, nonsense. That is because I spent my childhood quiet and patiently waited for my day, and as I waited, I listened. I listened and observed, observed the world passing by, observed that seemingly fruitful joy held by those around me. The only time anybody noticed me was when I slipped up, and lashed out against folks. I was weak then, so nobody got really hurt but I had intent to harm. on the other hand I had lungs like bellows and vocal cords like steel wire. Thus I yelled, I yelled and yelled to release my tension but it was never enough to yell. So I bottled what remained, I stopped yelling from then on, and I just bottled up all negative emotion.
When 2015 rolled around I was at breaking point, I simply snapped. I kept a happy face on for the people who looked but I was dead inside.
Must stay calm.
* The blade is not an option. *
I must stay calm.
* Keep away from the knife. *
I need to remain calm.
* Good, good*
Must keep relaxed.
*Use the pencil*
*Don't use the knife*
I'm barely holding it together.
*The pencil is good*
MUST. STAY. POSITIVE.
*Is the pencil sharp?*
MUST. KEEP. HAPPY.
*Sharpen the pencil*
NEED TO CUT.
*No you don't.*
I need to hurt.
*Pain is NOT good.*
Mustn't hurt others!
*Yes, you mustn't hurt others*
I am losing it, I am an emotional sponge.
*There is no safe release.*
I tried, I really did.
*I know you did, but it is not enough.*
NOTHING IS ENOUGH! NOTHING IS EVER ENOUGH! I HOLD IT ALL IN AND THEN IT STAYS THERE! NO MATTER WHAT I DO, I CANNOT RELEASE! I CANNOT UNBURDEN!
*I'll let someone know*
No. You won't.
*how are you going to stop me*
I don't trust myself, I don't trust other people. I barely trust animals. So how do YOU/I expect to let somebody know what's going on.
*In order to release you need to relax*
I can't relax. At all. I simply cannot relax at all.
*well then, have you tried*
Yes, I have done almost all that I CAN do in this form. The only true unleashing of that which hides behind these eyes is when blood is shed. When my own lifeblood is eked from flesh.