rant. ignore.

I'm writing this as am having one of my occasional mental breakdowns now. I'm fighting this strong urge to hurt myself at the moment. Don't know where I should put my pain. My cushion is soaked in my tears and am typing with my eyes holding the fresh ones which are yet to flow. I really don't know why am feeling this way. Want to feel sane for a minute. It's been a while since my mind has been letting jn intrusive thoughts. Really think that am losing mymind. like, it's chipping away one breakdown at a time. I know I really need help. but on whose doors should i knock?/ i have put n through so much that it makes me difficult to live with this increasing shame. he keeps asking me what's bothering me so much that i can't share it with him. at this point there is nothing that I want to say to him than to hurt him more. i don't know if i will ever wake up tomorrow. not that i have taken something. just unable to see how am going to live with this insanity that is slowly creeping into my mind. i feel i may some day just behave like a loose canon and draw things on myself with sharp objects. feels like no one would really be bothered by my absence. they all will move on. for some reasone, thinking a lot about how i was unable to say goodbye to my grandmother who passed years ago. is she calling me to the other side? sometimes i feel my mind will rest if i end it once and for all. may be just get my head smashed somehwere so that i am left with no consciousness at all while i cross over to the other side. my mind or brain as you say feels heavy as lead now. like all my weight has been pushed towards my brain. my eardrums feel like they would burst any moment with the kind of internal pressure my mind is holding. it feels like your own thoughts are suffocatiog you to death in the dead of the night. if i die, give away my functionsing organs to the ones who are in need, but destroy my brain. i don't want to pass on this torture to anyone in any way. i feel with me not being around, it will help n in th elong run. but any way that I guess only time will tell.

the graveyard song

make love to my corpse

once the blood dries out

let the chilly winds and wilted leaves

carry me to the open grave next to yours

let us caress the stab wounds and scars

we suffered from our haters

let's heal in our cold graves together

tonight's blood moon 

promises new, macabre beginnings

let's live the life 

we never could live together

listen! listen to the hymn of the dirge!

it sounds like our wedding song

because, my love, from hereon

six-feet under is where we belong

what is love, really?

(no, am not dead. yet. partially, you can say. anyhoo, came up with a piece after quite long. thought to pamper my blog a little, since I had not posted anything since march. tw: well, whatever... a dark take on love.)  

what is love, really?

is it mindlessly romanticizing the butterflies of your imagination? 

or is it the short-lived honey-dipped so-called "never-ending" conversations? 

is it to quietly blur the boundaries between consent and acceptance? 

or is it to blindly allow the violation of your body that slowly shatters your existence? 

is it longing for that intimacy which may go astray if the going gets tough? 

or it is normalising the infidelity despite having that privilege of being loved? 

is it that unadulterated desire to be with the person you have set your heart on? 

or is it this shallow feeling wrapped in an inherent fear of loneliness you might have to live on? 

what is love, really? 

its shades of warm red slowly turn darker with ceaseless ticking of time, 

eventually leaving stale memories of unfulfilled promises and desires behind

its darkness blinds your sensibilities as life passes you by

it stabs you in your chest with this cold rage of reality and eventually bleeds your heart dry

this may look like an assault on 'love' by a star-crossed jilted lover, 

but, you tell me, my dear reader, as its novelty wears off with passing time, doesn't a piece of love disappear? 

love eventually turns into a cold, black, overwhelming, and exhausting feeling

but, my friend, no matter how hard I try to dismiss it, 

love still remains to be an experience worth living.

flaming hot doors of hell

TW: suicidal ideation and whatever.. just appreciate the rhyme-less poetry here. :P

 die die die...

prompts a little voice 

in my mind

if you can be so kind

and bring me an ounce of 

death wrapped in a piercing bullet

let it slowly rupture my brain

and rescue me from myself

vanish vanish vanish...

hisses that little voice

in my mind, again

because i could easily resign

if the grim reaper 

wields his scythe on me,

promising eternal damnation

because i deserve to die

fuck the rainbow-shitting angels

serving the 'good souls' in heaven 

the beautifully scarred 

flaming hot doors of hell 

are open for a fiery embrace 

for sinners like me

and i might just find a home there

 

scorned lover

when thick darkness envelops the sky

i wait with my tired eyes and measured breath

for that sweet, fleeting illusion of peace and death  

i long for my brain to go all 

foggy and fuzzy and

dizzy and woozy

but 

sleep eludes me like a scorned lover

and my eyes just won't shut, won't listen

they show me those disembodied shadows  

lurking behind the curtains

ready to throttle me

and take my soul along 

to the raging fires of hell

and 

i burn

i suffer

i surrender

i die

and then 

i become the undead

haunting my very own earth   

in search of love and peace

for eternity

Aren't we all always a little dead inside? 

What's the point of living and hurting everyone when, someday, we all are going to die? 

how should i save me from myself?

should i just microwave my brain like plath?

or should i dissolve myself in waters like virginia?

is this romanticising the pain?

or simply longing to die sooner?

why is my mind so trapped?

why is my wrist aching to be slit?

why can't i ever be happy?

why can't my mind ever be at peace?

why do i hurt all those who love me?

why do i deserve to live?

what is happiness really?

why is it so difficult to stay happy? 

even if a particular moment brings happiness to me, i keep thinking of the time when the other shoe will drop and i will spiral down into the darkness. it's as if i don't want this darkness to go. it's as if, i long for it because i know, happiness is fleeting and darkness will stay. it's as if i'm no longer afraid to perish. 

i managed to survive 2021. that's an achievement. i was convinced to have turned into a ghost by now. i do continue to have these thoughts, though. it's been a few days now that i have been hopeful, and it scares me. it's scares me because i'm certain it may not last long and then i'll be disappointed and again those voices would whisper in my ears and tell me that i have hurt everyone so bad that i don't deserve to exist, to be loved.. 

i do wonder sometimes, what's the point of my existence.. when i have only done is to hurt the people i loved the most and lost them; when all i feel is the fiery pain in my chest; when all i can think of how my my mind and body have become so fragile that they may just shut down any day and i know that i'm so exhausted that i'll not do anything to revive it. 

what's the point, really? we all have to die some day. i'll just be one of the early birds flying in that direction, like my uncle.                 

i'm afraid to be hopeful and happy, but i think i'll try and survive 2022 to see a few more smiles and laughs of those around me, one day at a time.