6/6/19

tracing back

What I told you was hard to swallow, that much if for sure.
But you taking the chance to actually take an active interest into what i do and, especially, what i listen to... that is just creepy at this point in time.
Its far too late...
Its uncalled for...
Its just too late...
You had years to take an interest in it, to share moments with me.
Instead you considered your duty accomplish by "being there"
you dont know better and i can not fault you for that
but i have grown, i have changed
i am not walking by your hand back from school
I am doing my own thing, making my own decisions, weird thing since you have always hovered over me in that regard since i was too unsure from the get go
And now, as i write these lines and chug on a bottle of ale, i ponder:
whose fault is it?
should I have stood up more for myself?
Should you have let me take my own decisions and make my own mistakes?
we will never know...
but stop trying to make up for the past
concentrate on yourself
all your life is most likely a farce from what i can gather
and my existence is the series of coincidences and consequences that I am not yet, 4 week after the fact, able to properly process...
a tear wants to escape my eyes, but it wont, i am not drunk enough, i am too proud
and i have been and still am too much of a coward towards you...
i was conceived in the worst possible scenario, and it shows...
you did your best, but your best in this case was far from good
just like when i said that i did my best in the exams and i failed
you have done the same
your best wasnt enough and i have to bear the burdent for the rest of my days...

I am just rambling at this point...
I take another shot
I have to make the most of this weird serotonin wave as long as it lasts....

I... i can not say i love you
Because I am quite sure I dont, i cant express such emotion towards you
I am grateful for all you did, I really am and i willingly admit it
but i dont love you
neither you nor him
I do not know what i feel toward you, but its definitely not love
and you confessing to not loving and caring for her because she separated me from you...
Its too much...
you are not good, you are evil in a weird, loving way
and i am not coming back, mark my words
I want as little as possible to have to do with you now that i know the truth, which came by accident after you said you didnt hide ANYTHING from me...
I am you
you are me
we are similar and yet so different
and i DO NOT love you
I should
i am expected to
but i dont
and it saddens me for i would like to
but after all you have done and said
we are better off without each other

you try to figure out what you want, because, even at your age, you have no clue
the willing martyr
the saint that wants to save everyone
the naive girl that left the village looking for a world that doesnt exits
you need to grow up and so do i
but somehow i feel like i have less growing to do

i take another sip

you wont read this entry either, you just found out i even have a blog i write on
and i am okay with it

you would most likely break down, because deep down you know i am somehow right...
IF i was brave, i would ask you to leave me alone for some months
i would confront the reality of my existence

who knows

I was said i was going to pursue someone and i didnt, and thank fuck for that

so maybe doing the rational thing is the best course of action, again

I am just another soul in search of its way, like everyone else

29/3/19

Hearthache (Interlude)

Tell me child, why would you ever want to leave my side?

* *

Oh my child, what moves you to want to leave my side?

Have I not treated you as well as any mother could? Or as well as any mother should? Just to avoid what you may yet become

*Do you want a book?
Or maybe a pie?
Butterscotch or Snail
For the apple of my eye*

Please don't hurt me Mum, I swear I won't misbehave,

* *

(What could you have seen? was it something unforseen, the future, a dream, entwining, I keep reminding myself that it was not my fault

Whats a dream or what's the truth here anyway?

Please don't hurt me Mum I swear I won't misbehave

The past, a mirage, it hurts, remembering, I have to fight for what's to come and what is good

What's the past or what's a lie here anyway?

Tell me child what you expect to find on the other side

Is it the truth or revenge that you may wish to gain?

That is only for me to decide

One last time allow me to intervene
One last time please let me to hold your hand

254 cigarettes later

The wind lashes my scrubby face as I make my way back home.
I take out the tin container, carefully open it, flick the paper protector, pull out one cigar, flick it back to its proper place, put the cigar in my mouth, close the tin container and place it back in my pocket.
I reposition the cigar in the right corner of my lips, take out the lighter and look for a place where the wind will not mercilessly put out the flame as soon as I light it up.

I take a corner and take cover, press the button: the flame comes to life and kisses the tip of my cigar, my hands protect the flickering light as it slowly engulfs the tobacco leaves and gifts them the fire of life.

The first breath in is always the best, no matter how much, hard or long i have tried to quit, I always come back to that first breath in. It calms my nerves, makes my head lighter, makes me aware of my surroundings.

And it reminds me of the sour taste of the reason why I started to smoke.

You decided to drink, paid for none of the drinks you had, I took the route that was safer for me since I knew what awaited me at the other end: my mother, the chainsmoker.

Was it a desirable goal?
No

But it was the safe bet in the turmoil that had become my life, I knew what it was, I knew where it would take me, I knew where I would end.

At first I thought I had it under control, I lighted the cigar and not the other way around. I was the one making the decision, wanting to experience that sweet first breath in.

254 cigarettes later I am not as sure.

I do take that first breath, I do somewhat enjoy it, I decide to smoke the rest because nothing else gives me the short lived entertainment that i crave at that point in time.

I fill the void I made with the smoke I inhale.

I burn my life away with every breath I take.

I destroy myself, and I enjoy it.

Or I used to enjoy it...

I wonder where I will be 300 cigarettes later, 500, 732...
Any arbitrary number will do, the question remains: where will I be? Where is the goal, what do I want? What... do I deserve?