December 1st
We talk about monsters in fear. Leave our lights on at night to catch them, fear huge, merciless beasts, fear physical harm.
But the real monsters are inside us.
Real monsters are people.
And they scare me more than any beast.
Monsters are everywhere. Whether they hide in insecurities, memories, people, the words we speak or the words we can’t say.
And I’m terrified of monsters.
They are the very darkest corners of my head. The shadows that have taken over my mind, poisoned my world. And now I’m rotting in the dark.
I guess that’s why I write. To let my thoughts leak on to the page, it’s the glue that keeps me from falling apart, it scares away the monsters. It can hear my screaming and it actually wants to listen.
People are selfish and maybe it took me a while to realize that. They replace you like you mean nothing, they use you for everything you can give and then they throw you away. They could be watching me drown, see the shattered glass and storms that consume me, have me scream my broken thoughts in their face. I could let them see what I’ve turned into.
They still wouldn’t care. No one wants a pathetic, worthless bump to get in their way.
In the end you’re alone and you realize that once people are broken in certain ways, once the darkness has won, they can’t be fixed, that your scars never really heal.
My smiles are so practised that no one bothers to look past them, to see the pain behind them. I smile, I laugh but I’m way past dying, I’m dead inside and no one sees. My mind is swollen and infected with torment that I can’t run away from. I’m weak and I don’t care, so why should anybody else. How can I expect people to like me when I don’t even like myself?
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
Sweet Despondency
Genç Kurgu~. Despondency: Low spirits from loss of hope or courage; Dejection: an air of despondency .~
