I've been having a new set of dreams
recently. They still contain this woman in black and blue that I see so often
in my life but something is different now. No longer is she the same woman that
I have seen for countless years. She molded how I saw things and yet it is only
a delusion that my brain has created to deal with my loss and my anguish. If
you mold yourself after a thing or even a person, what would happen when you
witness that thing to change? Would it take you down with it? She has offered
me hope to better and as she changes slowly into something more grotesque and
define I can only follow in her footsteps.
Its nothing that is hardly noticed like a slight change in
facial structure in fact, it is the very opposite. I look at this woman and everything
that has changed is now what I see in her. I've lived so long to finally be
with this woman in black and blue but if my dreams keep treating this like some
little puppet, I guess it would be impossible. So many times I have looked
towards her for understanding and even with this great shadow that has fallen
upon my heart she still seems to amaze me.
Imagine, will you, a person—torn in body
and mind, having clothes just enough to cover the skin to a minimum and a look
of someone who has been starving for months and has only had the chance to eat
a few pill bugs—curled up into a corner shaking, screaming, thrashing at their
own skin and what do you feel? An average person—or better to say a "human
being"—would say that they would feel sorry for them. Wishing that they
could help but I can only feel good about this thought, like it is normal, like
it is apart of my everyday life. I feel like I sold my soul to the devil, I
feel nothing through the others pain. I find myself to keep staring and
examining what was happening rather then trying to help those in need. I would
watch to see if they would tear themselves apart and when they are on the side
of their deathbed I would continue to wait, just to see if they would follow
through.
Call me disturbing but I find this very
thing greatly interesting. People examine others to see if they would return
lost items or help someone out but I have never seen any studies that involve
highly negative consequences. Events that could determine someone’s very
existence, playing god as it seems fit to mere mortals, why is this? Because if
you partake in this sadistic practice then you are inhumane. Am I inhumane? I
don't know anymore. I seem to find myself conforming with everyday life more as
the days pass just so I can seem 'normal' but am I doing this intentionally or
is it just a reflex? I catch myself from time to time staring at someone’s
aguish but as soon as I snap back into reality I act but I can only wonder if I
never snapped out of this psychosis that I deal with. It’s interesting to watch
those who inflict pain on themselves. Watching to see if they are doing it so
they can gain others attention or they just don't care about themselves and
those are the ones I look for. They act as if they are a time bomb decaying and
when it degrades enough it would finally force itself to explode. Everything
can have an opportunity to act like this, especially human beings.
It’s interesting to watch a person’s life
fall down around them. They get desperate and they do whatever they can but same
as the ones who inflict pain on themselves, they don't do anything about it.
They don't fear the maker or anything that could interfere with their lives and
I find that those people can become the most successful in life. They make
those jumps because they have nothing to loose and every so often someone
finally rises to the top and how do people treat him you may ask?
People say that he was poor at one time
and he pushed all he could to see himself making a better life but I don't see
this to be so. Everybody is looking for self gain and not even you the reader
can deny that. You look at something or someone asks something of you and all
you can think is 'what will I get out of this?' Maybe its the people who have
already accepted this become the great ones. The ones who are willing to get
their hands dirty for the morals that they seem to forget about in the back of
their head.
This woman that I see now has changed
into a new kind of breed. Something that I never really thought that could
exist. A kind that looks at their own misfortunes and they take advantage of
other peoples mortality. She carved out her eyes; every last piece that could
be left inside of her was torn out to leave two bloody holes within her face.
She was now blind but she remained to live and indulged in her sacrifice. Blood
trickled down her rosy cheeks and onto the floor but whenever I looked at her
she stood there, smiling, enjoying what it was. Her simple, dainty, dark blue
dress is all that she had on her shoulders, bright red lipstick on her lips,
small black high heels, long dark hair that surpasses her shoulders and hands
that are crossed along her waist.
I fall in love with her misfortunes. I
look at the blood on her cheeks and I feel good. Eyes have always been a key
feature that I look for in a woman but even with a woman who has none to her
name I still see beauty within her. She walks in and out of my dreams, waving
her finger at me for me to take her home. That view of a simple tortured soul
makes my heart beat. Scars tell stories, disfiguration tells more. It makes you
who you are and I find that beautiful, self-inflicted or not. It tells me that
you have emotion, that you are human yourself, you feel pain and you still look
for love and what is so inhumane about that? It’s the people who pull through
that will become amazing, the ones who destroyed their lives just to see what
would happen. The ones who kill themselves. They understand life as it is, no
matter how depressing it is and that makes me feel good.
Remember me
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