Nightmare and reality.

July 25, 2011 J. 0 Comments

“All my life I had thought that
I had the perfect kindda life
Or as close to perfect as it got anyway.
I said I was blessed and knew it to be true
Till came a storm without warning
That ripped my fairy tale in two.
All my delusions laying shattered by my feet.
Too hurt and confused to cry,
Too hurt and confused not to try.

Did this mean I wasn’t blessed anymore?

Pictures, like appearances can be deceiving.
I want to pull the golden framed picture off the wall
And watch it burn while sipping hot coco.
I want to shave my head and join a gang,
I want to curl up in my room and hang.
I really want to escape from this torment.

So every night before I got to sleep
I pray that the next time I open my eyes
It will be to wake up in another time and place.
A place where,
My soul isn’t as fractured nor my heart as bleak.
A time when,
My smiles weren’t as forced and this house,
Was still my home.

But alas, every day I still wake up
To the sight of carelessness and waste.
Yes, this nightmare is my reality.”

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I have emerged.

July 25, 2011 J. 2 Comments

I have been away a while and it isn't that i have had nothing to say. Truth be told, i have had tons to say but unfortunately without the words. my life has drastically changed over the last 2 months. so much so that i do not feel like the same person. all that i have come to know and depend on has proven to be a farce. my little cocoon shattered, though i doubt i have emerged from it a butterfly.
I changed the title of this blog from "Autobiography of a Cancerian" to "The asylum". it seemed only fitting.
i am not a new person, just different. the things that troubled me just a couple of months ago seem like lifetimes ago and frankly don't seem as important. Boys, shopping, parties.. etc. Just minor annoyances now. yes, i definitely am different.
Something in me, my innocence probably, died a horrific death but something else took its place. something fierce. The same thing that hasnt let me shed a tear after the last crying jag.
i lost a hero, a friend and a model. my family has a large crack in it and i hear voices in my head. i truly am a psychward breakout now.
but i found my dealing mechanism. "Shit happens - you get over it". if i dont think of it that way, i just might breakdown all over again.
i might not have emerged a beautiful and graceful butterfly but i HAVE emerged. and at this very point in time, that's is all that matters to me.

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