Where Does My Mind Go
I am sometimes asked what's inside my head. I generally say, "Stuff."
It is that "stuff" that takes my mind to zillions of places, meeting and seeing new faces that never existed. When I have those moments where there are no distractions, no noise, no anything ... my mind opens and "stuff" seeps out and I put it to good use to create people, places, events and thought.
My mind opens like a faucet, and though some say I have a mind that is off-the-wall sometimes, I relish these moments when this "stuff" can just make my real self disappear into places that bring about moments of thrills, mysteries, adventures, and passions. I get to be everyone and anyone
The best part to all of this? I get to expeience this "stuff" before anyone else does.
When my world is overcome with silence,
I begin to think about what I’ve missed,
The people, the chances, opportunities.
My rain goes over the endless possibilities,
Sometimes I think about the future,
Other times I remember the past.
Almost anytime I am alone and quiet,
I try to escape from the present,
One might call me a dreamer.
Rarely am I alone and quiet,
I work too hard,
Do nothing too little.
So I savor these moments,
And let go.
If not for these few moments,
I would have gone insane,
From life as it is today.
Things stopped being carefree,
When about five or six,
I cannot remember the feeling.
Maybe someday I will,
Find a way to let go.
I hope those who know me,
Don't think of me as,
A controlling person.
I just like getting things right,
Doing what is correct,
And being the best I can be.
My Writer Soul Hole
Often I get lost alone drifting in thought
If I’m honest I find myself here a lot
In this place anything can happen or naught
It’s a vast world inside with an endless plot
Within this library like world I am free
To do or be anything and chase the sea
This place that’s in my head stores all of me
It’s where I visualize how I’ll soon spree
I keep the knowledge I’ve learned on shelves as books
There is a custodian that cleans it’s nooks
My monster plays adventuring by it’s brooks
This place has a hole from which my demon looks
In that hole my fond muse begs for reprieval
It’s a place of shifting peace and upheaval
Where the best of me awaits my retrieval
As I write I dip pen in hole primeval
Sometimes I reach too deep into my soul hole
This time I pulled out a nasty naughty knoll
Or possibly it was a sly nave or troll
Maybe even a dark and filthy wild groll
Out it came clinging to my pen with gnarled staff
The stave it wielded cast a twisting dank laugh
Then he slashed and stabbed at gut with putrid gaff
His aim attempting to cleave me right in half
The disenthralled beast consumed with snarl tusked gaze
It’s grunts injected my mind’s eye with a maze
A mesmer slinging spells evoking a daze
That cur’s enchantments set my tired brain ablaze
With the last of my fortitude and pure luck
I returned spry snarls of my own spitting guck
Weak as my charms turned his roar into a cluck
Changing the brute into a chicken to pluck
We are alone, together.
We are together, alone.
This is our lives.
This is our destiny.
I spend my nights alone in the pitch of black.
Alone in the prime of night, within the grasp of darkness.
I think to myself where my life is, and where it could go.
I think to myself what my life was, and where it could've been now.
Ignored by the ones I love.
Ignoring the ones who love me.
"What could I have done different?"
"What could I do different?"
One mistake at a time I manage to screw with this mind of mine.
Another inhale should help the hail stop hurting my sail.
Because in this ocean of black is the motion I lack.
It is soothing to think I could be choosing my drink.
Whiskey, or wine? Tipsy, or fine?
Juice, or milk? Fruit, or silk?
My mind takes me on journeys never before.
As I enter the nights darkened galore.
The forbidden zone, as one may call it.
When I enter my thoughts, the depressing culprit.
The girl of my dreams bursting my heart at the seams.
I love her to death, almost literally it seems.
This is my mind extracted from the night.
As I wait for the blindness to be brightened by light.
But my soul, its a completely different story.
One that wont end happily, but be gory.
Do you hear that silence?
Well, the noise in my head
Is clashing violence
Let me ask you
In the quiet
What’s your mind do?
Have you wondered
What it’s like to die?
Have you seen a river
That’s run bone dry?
Do they tell you
When your greatest dreams
have just been crushed?
Have you ever
Heard the blackness speak
Either a passing word
Or harsh critique?
Have you seen
A smile that was just “off”
Reappear in an object
With its scornful scoff
Painted in the dark
Do you continue to see
On their last plea?
You’re just like me.
Where does my mind go?
((TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE))
It goes to a lot of places, an endless world, galaxy, universe, multiverse, it will never cease to go somewhere new and unexpected. I find it rather impressive but I bet everybody’s mind does the smae thing, just in their own ways.
Despite my attemtps to stay in these new advetures I always find myself wandering back to a certain person, my dearest friend, my only, who lays in her velvet coffin and withered buds. They commited suicude.
I’m not the only one who lost someone so dear to them due to suicide, I find comfort in that(as weird as it sounds) knowing I’m not the only one who is suffering with the after affects of this terrible act unfortunately, I also find more sadness in it knowing how often it is commited and the precious lives that took themselves will be burried away.
I sit on the edge of my bed every night and sink into the never ending depths of my mind as the world around slowly fades away and is replaced with the familiar sight of the city, the roof of the apartment building we lived in together, the moon always smiling down on us as out feet dangled just over the edge and our laughs filled the air, the smoke of my cigarette rising up and clouding the star lit sky.
Now it’s quiet and it hurts to think about it, about you. I find it ironic really how I always use to complain in the back of my head about how loud you were talking but now that you aren’t here anymore I do nothing but crave your voice once agian, the silence never ceasing to tear apart my mind. The moon does nothing but frown down on me and the city seems empty and cold, I no longer see your feet dangling next to mine and more and more smoke fills the sky...the only thing keeping me company is another empty pack of ciggaretes by my side.
I don’t blame you for wanting to escape and I’ve never felt anger towards you for leaving me alone, I never could, I only felt anger towards myself for never speaking up. I would ask you every night on that red-letter roof-“How are you?”- Your reply would always be the same-“I’m fine.”-and yet I knew the entire time that was a lie, I knew there was more hidden behind that bloody statment of yours and yet, I never spoke up. I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it or you didn’t want me to get into your personal life but I realise now you were really screaming for help behind that fake smile.
I KNEW, yet I never spoke a word. Not a single peep came out of my mouth about your constantly depressed state, you became more distant and our conversations became short, you didn’t smile anymore and you never did the things you loved to do before. We were bestfriends and I knew something was wrong but I was too scared to beleive it and just let it pass. How could I? I am so sorry, I failed as someone who cares, I failed to help you when you needed help the most. So...when I say I don’t blame you for wanting to run away, I see why now. I am such a horrible friend.
I didn’t need to be told when you left, never to return again, I felt it in my heart. A whisper went through my body and my mind went numb, I couldn’t feel anything and yet I felt everything, a horrible feeling. It only grew worse when your parents came and told me, when they questioned me and begged for answers as to why their precious child would do such a horrible things to themselves. The guilt began to weigh more on me, my bones splitering underneath it all, I told them I saw the signs but that I never did anything because I was scared to. They told me they forgave me, those amzing parents, but I know they really hate me.
I could say sorry over and over again yet I know it will do nothing, I’ll still say it again and again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...for everything. I remeber how much colder it felt that night, the night you left, I remember you looking at me and suddenly kissing me, those warm lips of yours, you told to never give up. A voice screamed in my head telling me to help you, to ask why you were acting so strange, but I only kissed back and smiled-and then I waved. You told me you’d head inside in a few minutes and even while that voice kept screaming and begging for me to stay and help, I climbed in that bed with the growing pit of fear in my heart. You never came.
I question myself everyday about what I could’ve done diffrent and yet I know it would do nothing but make your passing even worse, so now I look back on those last blessed words you gave me and I will never give up, never fall in. When the moon hides its face froms the beaming sun I find myself back on the edge of my bed, this is where my mind goes when it’s quiet and I’m alone. Everyday, everynight, every moment...
it goes back to you.
I remember those beautiful moments of clarity, in the drive back home after a day of school, that sublime serenity, that freedom of thought, that comforting detatchment from all worries and worldly concerns. It was blissful, and invigorating.
And now those moments are gone.
Now all I find in my solitude are those hateful thoughts, those stressful questions in dire need of answers, that mind-numbing emotion and that cloud of confusion. The rides back home are no longer ones of bliss, of content or joy. They are torture, the moments between actions that force my mind to wander, not aimlessly, but listlessly, uncertain.
Who am I anymore? What am I doing? Why am I such a failure of a human being? Why can’t I understand myself anymore? Where did I go? Will I ever find out?
I bite my fingers, and press down. I don’t go as far as to cut through my skin, but I leave marks. Not deep, and not gruesome, but temporary, like my own mood, like my own emotions, like myself. I look out to that once inspiring view, that which used to excite me and give me reason to smile. But it does not look the same. The grass, the sky, the buildings, they are all dull. They are not inspiring, they are gloomy, because I am gloomy. Nothing can look as optimistic as it once did. The scars may fade, but they are not gone. The scenery passes and I am again submerged in my own selfish self-hatred, my own inadequacies, my own loathing.
Why am I so weak? Why am I such a societal failure? I can’t talk with anyone. Not even my best of friends can see my problems. No, they can, they just have their own, and need me to express need in order to show any compassion. They aren’t selfish, they just don’t know. God, I am an idiot. What can’t I do wrong? I will never escape this vicious cycle. I will never amount to anything. I am worthless. My aspirations will only ever be that, aspirations. I am a burden.
I really don’t deserve to exist. I should honestly kill myself.
I play out the scene in my head. Second period, bell rings. Cue the song, some weird cinematic camera angles for my narcissistic side, I pull out the revolver, tap my best friend on the shoulder and my other good friend as well. They turn to see the gun in my mouth, headed for the brain. A true smile, wide and teary-eyed, happily closed eyes, a soft wave, a muffled, “I love you guys.”, and click. Fade to black.
But I can’t, can I. I would only become a bigger burden if that happened. Funeral costs, raising a kid for all that time jus for a suicide, emotional damage to the people that cared, not to mention ruining some shirts and the back wall. Probably get the carpet stained as well. I can’t. What a pain.
I let go a mental maniacally happy laugh.
Life really isn’t fair, is it?
That flurry of comments and feelings rushes back.
“I can respect feeling lonely, feeling worthless, but I can’t respect excuses.”
“I love your wit, your funny comments, your stature as someone I can talk to about the serious things.” I have none of those qualities. No you don’t.
”I don’t think you appreciate your time alone with yourself.” How can I, feeling as I do, making ‘excuses’, being worthless, hating myself?”
“You need to learn to love yourself. And you need to build self-confidence.” Easier said than done. I am nothing worth loving. And a worthless pile of trash will not feel good about itself.
I shake and shudder and get goosebumps along my back and the nape of my neck. And then I get those painful pinprick feelings that hurt and invite uneasiness and shuffling. In an instant the car is burning, and I am sweating, nervous, anxious, and horribly uncomfortable. I bite my hands with a fervor, and it doesn’t help. I shake more and more. This is torture.
I get now what Hamlet meant when he used the term, ‘mortal coil’.
And suddenly we are home. I am home. I am free.
I exit the car, the feelings go away and I rush, rush to my room. I am free.
And yet, I am caged. I am a slave.
I think to myself of what I can do to occupy my mind. To move away from this pain. And I find it. What a painful quarter of an hour. I busy myself.
And I dread the next day.
It gets pretty hectic.
the lights all go out and we can't see
someone breaks in and I have to escape (I'll open the screen window, jump, and if my leg breaks, oh well)
someone with a gun kills someone I love
the person I love today won't love me tomorrow
the person I love today I won't love tomorrow
I break someone's heart
my sister dies
something happens that threatened my life completely
my friends disappear from this earth?
the lights go out but we all have each other
someone breaks in because they need a place to sleep (we offer them one and they are polite and kind and say thank you and leave harmlessly)
someone with a gun is caught and taken into custody
the person I love loves me unconditionally
the person I love I love unconditionally
I mend someone's heart
my sister is always happy
I live a long, loving life
something happens that guaruntees that we will live happily ever after
my friends all live long and stay in touch?
Don't think about those things, Fay. Don't think about the negative, Fay. Don't plant those seeds, Fay. You're weird, Fay. You think about random weird things, Fay. I bet you're going to grow up to be an outcast of society for thinking these things, Fay.
I counter the negative with the positive opposites. Does it always work? No. That's when these thoughts enter my head.
It's pretty busy up there.
where my mind goes when i am alone
I looked at my best friend and smiled, "Bye! I'll see you tomorrow!" I gave her a hug and waved before I hopped into my own car. We pulled out and started the journey home. It was weirdly silent since my sisters both had other places to be. My brother and I tended to the quietest two of the bunch anyway.
"So, how was school? How did you do on that math test you had?" my mother asked.
"School was alright. I got an eighty on the math test though and it dropped my grade like five percent."
"Wow, well an eighty isn't bad though." Yes, it is. You practicially failed and now your grade is lower than a 95%. You are going to do horrible on the next test and then you won't have an A anymore. It took you forever to get your grade up last time.
"Yeah," I didn't really know what to say.
The rest of the ride was done in silence. And almost as soon as we pulled up I got out of the car and headed inside. I dropped everything off and sat on my bed. Glad to be free from that suffocating car. Though I spoke too soon.
You know you did absolutely horrible on that last test. What happened to being the perfect child, huh? Can you do anything right? If you aren't perfect then your parents aren't going to want to deal with you anymore. They already have your other siblings that they have to help out.
But, (friend's name) got a score lower than me and she is fine. Her grade is lower than mine and it's not that big of a deal.
Oh, but that's different. You are better than this. Why can't you just be good enough. It was probably one of the easiest concepts ever. Gosh, you are so pathetic.
I sighed out loud. Glad that I was in my room and that no one could see me right now. You are right, I told the voice.
Glad we got that settled, now lets move onto the rest of the issues. Why are you so fat. Is it really that hard to not eat? I thought that I told you to skip at least one meal a day and then we could increase it from there. Why didn't you listen. You know that I only want what's best for you.
But I weigh less than 100 pounds. How can I be fat when (friend's name) weighs more and she isn't fat at all. And I was really trying hard to skip more meals but my dad was catching on and wouldn't leave me alone. I only got away with it for three nights because I went to bed before my dad got home and my mom doesn't notice.
You know that's different. (friend's name) is fine as she is and is beautiful. Don't you want to be beautiful? Have you seen that chunk of fat on your stomach, and your huge thighs. Do you exercise at all? Goodness, its no wonder than no boy will ever see you as anything more than a brain.
Okay, I get it. I'm fat and ugly. I will try harder to bypass my dad next time.
Good. Now, onto the next thing. Do you remember that comment you said earlier? To your "friend". Well, that was actually so rude. And you probably offended them. They said it was fine but it really wasn't. They hate you now.
But, I really wasn't trying to be mean. I was just tired and my tone came out harsh. They don't hate me, they couldn't. They wouldn't lie. Would they?
Of course they would lie! They don't care about you. No one does. They just pity the poor quiet girl who is so fat and ugly. Don't you ever listen to what I tell you. No one will ever love you. You are just a mistake. No one cares. Why don't you just disappear, go kill yourself or something. You are just a burden and it would be better if you just died.
I know. I know. I know. I know, OKAY. I wish I could just kill myself. I am too much of a coward. I can't even hurt myself properly, OKAY. I understand. I get it. No one loves me and no one ever will. I am just a mistake, who would ever love a mistake. I need to be perfect and beautiful and then someone will love me. But no one else has to be perfect because no one is perfect. But I still need to be. That's the way things are. WHY CAN'T ANYONE LOVE ME! WHY AM I SUCH A MISTAKE! I HATE MYSELF! I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH! WHY DOES EVERYONE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY I AM FINE! I HATE MYSELF! I yell to the voice in my head. As, I quietly sob to myself, making sure that I am not loud enough to be overheard.
Good, good. You are starting to get it. But did you really have to yell at me. I am only doing what is best for you. Now, what are you going to do to be closer to being perfect?
I know! I will skip two meals tomorrow. I'm sorry, I was so rude. I will be better tomorrow. I'll tell them sorry again tomorrow. Oooohh! I will also make sure to retake the test tomorrow so that I can get a better score.
Perfect, you are getting the hang of this. Soon you won't need me anymore to give you advice. You will just be able to know what to do to make everything right. Maybe we can evne get you to draw some red lines before I leave.
Yes, of course. Wouldn't that be so great! Thank you, you have helped me so much.
Where did You go?
for so very long...
then up in the attic
where things got
and around till
finally you had
it out... with
(...You took me
with You there...
this I know because
...You more or less
told me so...)
Say did you wander
very far in these depths
Was the Past present
like it is Now...?
shield your eyes
from a blazing
See You Later
on the horizon
of these broad
I hope You’ll find
exactly what it is
You’ve got in mind.