this alarm bombarded me repeatedly reminding me that it's a new day, i ought to get up on my feet.
it's so hard trying to cope with all of this. it sucks actually. i am torn in between my thoughts and my actions but it all comes back to the same dead end, taking a decision. my life depends on what i acquire and desire to choose although i am far from being a good person to even rule my own life. how am i supposed to lace all my dreams and pack them up to settle on one single road that leads to my future that leads to god knows where. but here's the main question, how am i really supposed to choose where to go when i don't have a single idea about where i stand today. i'm broken yet somehow functioning, i'm unstable yet i have found a way to wake up every morning and brush my teeth and, well, live. you think it's that easy, waking up in the morning? inhaling few molecules of oxygen seems to be such a hard task lately. but how can i manage? it's easy. i let the hurt consume me, i gave up to my own pain. that is the best way of hurting, by actually feeling hurt and embracing it. i have grown familiar with crying myself to sleep, i am well acquainted with the taste of betrayal and sympathy. it might foremost sound really dramatic and stupid although it is the only way to make it,and this time not by faking it. i rambled so much about the sorrow to the point i let it derive every sense of my body; until i finally learned how to be human -until i mastered the hurt.
i now depend on the hole in me where the dagger lays underneath my skin; it merged with the veins of my heart. Now, removing the dagger hurts more than plugging a new one inside of my chest all the way to my back. i guess that's how i find peace, by never clinging and going crazy after it; or maybe after all i will enhance my peace when i accept that it does not exist.
i removed my head from under the sink, grabbed my headphones and texted Delta.
" omw d i missed the first 7 alarms. fuck. this. morning. "
in less than two seconds i got the sweetest reply: "eat a dick Twan it's fine just hurry up"
this made me smile, don't ask me why. i love the way she genuinely cares.
i left her message on read. probably as i left my senior year worries, my dad screaming some unheard familiar words and all the buckled up thoughts on read. it's that easy, ignore the world, press shuffle and move on with your day. music. music has been the only way i can breathe lately. whenever i listen to the music, every note goes through my head and makes its' way to my heart, every rhyme creates that celestial chaos in me and with every beat my heavy heart feels at ease, my numbness gets stroked with waves of emotions and my mind manoeuvres the utmost pits of thoughts, every melody yarns my scars and fills my holes with its' euphony. i can never in my life explain the lust of music in my veins and the voyage of my affection with it. i can never explain the way music makes me feel.
headphones out, back to the reality where i got kicked out of my biology class. i made my way to the toilets and sat down on the, better not to describe it, floor.
Amara is my only hope, it's probably night time in her country. although, i never paid attention to the time lapse in between us because no matter when i send her a message she manages to reply instantly.
"Amara bb are you alive? i got more than 90+ min free, idk what to do. bored.af."
as expected, i had no time to even blink and my direct messages notification popped up.
"twannn!! dude?? kicked out again...??"
her punctuation use irritates me sometimes.
i unlocked the door after almost an hour and a half. talking with Amara is such a heavy weight lifted off my chest. she understands me on such a surreal level. we are really alike, at some point i believe that she is my girl version in a parallel universe. i wish to meet her one day; she never skips a chance to remind me that no matter what, we will reunite in the end. somehow she indulges the ease feeling in me -in a good way. she makes me think, she cracks my brain, she pushes me to the limits.
"here you are, let's go" Delta grabs my arm as i was sneaking out of the toilet door avoiding any eye contact.
laying on some bench, my head on her thighs, she surely affirms:
"- i'm here you know, talk
- i do. i'm just, well, i don't know how to explain but like." i continued hesitatedly "i'm just so tired"
" -elaborate
- there's no need
- i said go ahead talk
- you have heard this fucking hopeless speach for about 300 times. what's the point
- stop pissing me off, either you talk or i rip your throat out" with a worried smile on her face, she saw the river coming out of me "go ahead T" .
with a high pitched voice i rambled
"i feel alone, real alone. i have tons of so called friends but nobody cares . and the thing is i don't want them to care but i want them to be here but i want to be alone but fuck i don't know. i am sick of feeling sick, i am tired of holding this war in my chest . i feel so alone yet surrounded by an army but with no weapons. i hate smiling my day to the dusk. and then crying my night to the dawn. i am so alone and tired and..." my voice cracks. i stop talking. Delta removes her fingers from my hair, wraps her hands around my thick skin. i feel at ease. cryptical ease. then she follows up " we're getting out of here".
