Once in a while you might stumble upon people who seem to compete in who can kill themselves the fastest. You might meet someone from your past and all you can think is ‘self destruction initiated’. Or maybe it’s a new acquaintance, who is too oblivious to see what she’s doing to herself. Maybe it’s you.
You’re stuck in a downward spiral, trying your best not to see it. The person in the mirror is not you. The voices asking you to stop are wrong. They don’t know you. They don’t understand. You’re fine. It’s just a game. You’re in control, at least when you bleed or when the world for once spins faster than your thoughts.
You might wake up with a new wound, but you hide it. If they don’t see it, you don’t see it and that means it doesn’t exist. Everybody’s happy, as long as no one reminds you. As long as they don’t ask. You don’t understand why they want to meddle with your wall. You’ve spent many nights building it, brick by brick and you don’t intend to let some outsider come and tear it down just like that. It’s about integrity.
What you don’t know is that they heard you. Without realizing it you’ve been crying out for help a long time now. You scream louder every day and now it’s like the air bomb sirens have gone off. You don’t have much time left, they say. You just stand there, with you’re million dollar smile and tell them not to worry. Everything is better than ever. Yes, you are eating. No, you’re not broke. No, those guys are your friends. No, you just like that long sleeved sweater a lot and no, they can not look at your arms. Don’t you have any integrity left They should get out and leave you alone.
Deep down inside you’re not sure what you’ll do the day they don’t ask. What if the air bomb sirens will make them run for shelter. Will you be able to silence it on your own? Will you still breath if no one asks you to?
I’ve met many people who have hurt themselves. I guess I’ve been one of them and it has fascinated me for a long time. It’s a strange thing that someone who is so worthless in her own eyes can be so valuable in somebody else’s. ‘Why do you cause yourself so much pain while giving me all this joy?’
Listen to Paint me red. Listen to Freakshow.
Do we embrace our demise or do we fight back? Yes, little miss J did have a certain taste for chaos but I saw beyond that. If she would just have let me in we could have played, pretending that we were fine. The referee is counting, but the fight goes on if we get up on ‘nine’. Are you ready to get back in the ring or will you just close your eyes and drift off?
We’ll talk about the survivors next time. Anger is good. Until then the swedes should check out the latest issue of Close-Up Magazine. I’m in it and the conversation was pretty sweet. Talk soon children. Be nice or I’ll spank you.