Writing 2 Release

Page one of this mundane manuscript that I hope will attempt to navigate you through my perplexing life and sift through my fickle emotions and exploding thoughts that innately seem to dagger my soul. The serrated conviction of a melancholic lament my heart is composing to an empty audience. The symphonic melodies the pain forcefully burns through. Piercing the layers, I tried so diligently to construct in hopeful efforts the gripes would be alleviated. My clarity has become jaded, and I’ve lost sight of who I am as I person. Life has found a way to systematically pound me into the ground and the reconstruction of my life has initiated. The decision to ultimately remain concreted to the Earth was up to me.

A wise man told me, I had to want to choose happiness......choose to live. The fault for my current torment is mine alone. Yes, there were influences that altered my actions but I alone, made the choice to deny my voice. Refusing to say no had dire consequences I am now facing. Visibly invisible is the perfect culmination of my existence. I’m not the person I used to be. That illusion of the past faded away into oblivion. Now in its place sits a void. A void with no face, no voice, and overbearing emotions that make this vessel numb. I feel everything but at the same time, nothing. I believe I am nothing. On a daily basis I feel transparent, silenced, forgotten, unlovable. Death is a friend of mine and he treks through my mind quite often. Most days I wake up and wish I hadn’t. Do you know what it’s like to feel envious of the dead? A peaceful slumber with no disturbances from the outside world. To roam the Earth, daily harboring so much pain. A latent, dormant pain nobody knows.

Everyone has a sob story, and mine isn’t more pressing as the next but to expel some of these thoughts out of my system, writing has become my outlet. No one warns you about depression. There isn’t a manual you can read to help that will help navigate you back to a happy reality. Optimism was something I’ve always been known for. One piece of wisdom I’ve gained in life was, my so-called friends weren’t my friends. Not everyone that smiles in your face has your best interest in mind. I was only relevant when I could provide something for them. Once my means to support were cut, my friends were nowhere to be found. There I sunk to the ground facing one of my worst fears, being alone. Alone is more than a feeling but a state of mind. When I’m alone, the echoing voices in my head incessantly bounce off my mind’s criticizing walls, resulting in a paralytic state. A state of self-medicated uncertainty and confusion.

Clarity became misguided and my ambitions ionized into self-doubt and a shatter of confidence in myself. Questioning my existence and purpose in life was something that no longer seemed an aberration to my regimented way of thinking. The walking dead was a way of existing I ascended beyond. Feeling everything but at the same time, nothing at all left me in a parallel plane of some type of gluttonous purgatory. The search for the correct combination of lexicons to help illustrate my stained canvas seems more difficult by the day. An effort should be made though so I can pacify my mind to regain the boardwalk to my Utopia. Fasten your constraints because this is about to be one hell of a ride.

Like the dance of the fervid flame, a passion ignites within my soul drawing in the cosmic energy of the stars within a spiraling reach. Shaken ambitions congruent to transparent dreams, now exhausting the winding journey to my inner peace. A damp, darkened, tundra covered in irregular icy memories, trapped within trees of the man I used to be. The iridescent swirl of my broken soul and fractured heart canvas the Earth below my bare, cracked feet. Above me, the dwindling stars beacon scattered bursts of hope that maybe, just maybe things will get better. Like the charred ashes from the wounded Phoenix, I will rise again stronger than before.

Allowing the world to misguide my battery to illuminate was something I never expected to happen. Words have immense power behind the actions of the tongue. The universal power that could inspire, empower, motivate, encourage, and uplift. Yielding such universal power also comes the negative. Words that harbor the potential to cripple, bind, and diminish one’s ability to HOPE. When the transitional phase of my life hinged itself from positive to negative, was the day my world became cloudy. Most days I feel like a worn-out doormat. Incessantly trampled upon with what feels like twice the weight of the world. Becoming accustomed to people coming and going was the normal for me. Leaving behind the murky, muddy, imprint of an expendable ragdoll. Why did everyone leave? Am I too broken to be fixed? Why does no one take the time to help me reconstruct my essence? My worst feat was birthing itself into fruition right before my eyes.

All my life, I’ve done any and everything just to appease people who I thought were my friends. A misguided notion that they cared for me. I mean, I cared for them, so I made the fatal mistake in believing the street was two-sided. It’s the times like this where I loathe having a big heart. When you have a vast heart, a double-edged sword is then placed on your life. The same sword I’ve loaned to my so-called friends is the one they seem to dagger my back with repeatedly. Being let down by so many people I assumed were so close to me, added fuel to my already sporadic fire that was spiraling out of control. My heart and emotions have always been broadcasted on my transparent sleeve for the world to observe. A little compassion is too much to ask for. I’ve always placed others before myself because I honestly feel like I don’t matter. I’m unforgettable, expendable, empty. My future was luminous in High School. Entertaining and performing onstage came naturally to me. One of my innate gifts I nurtured over the course of my academic school year. A full ride was granted to me to a performing arts school, but I rejected the offer because my best friend at the time had no other friends and would miss me too much he said. So I stayed, crumpling my future into a creased ball. Regret took over, and I auditioned at the school again and was awarded the same scholarship. Once again, my needy ass let the same friend influence me to reject my future for a second time. The choice was mine to say yes, so I can’t place the blame on him for getting inside my head. Why do I allow people to immerse their selves under my epidermis? The front I project to the world is that nothing phases me and I’m eternally overly elated.

Why am I not enough to want to know? I’ve come to realize I don’t have many genuine friends but rather party acquaintances. If that doesn’t make you want to traverse from a mountain into the fiery depths of an active volcano, I don’t know what will. Why the same generosity and compassion wasn’t reciprocated is beyond me. I’ve hammered my own heart into shards of disappointment believing the notion people would be good to me. Nothing like tough love to harden your shell. Everyday I construct a thicker brigade of bricks around my heart and feelings. I’ve been on this Earth, this beautiful, lush, Earth for 29 years alone. Rejection and acceptance have become intimate friends of mine and seem to always be present. Ugly, big head, ewww, a condescending laugh as a response, and much worse are all badgering let downs I’ve had hurled at my face. The icy grip of loneliness has always been there to keep me company. Everyone around me is pairing off with someone while I’m beings g left to drift in the apocalyptic wind. Lonely doesn’t even graze the feeling I feel. There isn’t a word in the human lexicon vocabulary that could explain how I’m feeling.

Just once, I want someone to look at me. When I say look, I mean look past my fake smile and the happy facade I portray to the world. Take the time to dissect my brain and you’d see that I am more complex. Dumbing myself down to party to appease the crowd only made me detest myself more. I’ve played their game for so long, the face I stare at in the mirror isn’t even one I recognize. It’s just an overcast standing under a constant rain cloud. Will the rain ever stop? I’m drowning with every breath I take.