04-05-2017, 10:36 PM
It never goes away. You can't listen to it, but you can't ignore it either.
One time in my life I thought I was irredeemable. I tried to run, didn't get far. When I went out into the world I thought I knew how bad things could get. When you're walking down a snowy road in the middle of winter in Minnesota, with only a sweatshirt, black pants, boots, and a stupid little wooden "knife", just out of the blue, because you've been thinking about running for so long and finally decided to nut up or shut up, that's when the world says,
"Alright, kid. You think you're tough shit?"
When the blizzard's coming in and you're sprinting a mile back to the house you passed a mile ago, and you know there's people in there, and you're banging on the door and begging them to let you in because you're gonna freeze to death and you're just a stupid kid and you swear to God you're not going to hurt them, and then they don't let you in or even speak to you, that's when it hits you. It hits you so hard exactly how bad things can get for you.
Then when the cop pulls up, while you're laying in the ditch just waiting for the cold to take you, saying "fuck it, I've shamed myself enough. I'm not gonna even try getting back. I'll just embarrass myself further", and he takes you back home to your grandparents cabin you were at for the week, and your grandfather isn't screaming or crying, but just calm and collected, waiting to wrap a coat around you, and all your grandmother says is about how wet your clothes are but you don't even feel it, that's when you realize something else the world was trying to show you this whole time you had your head up your ass. It was trying to show you how good things could be. Show you how much your family loves you when your brothers are in tears and your mom comes there all the way from work in tears, your step-dad comes up with pizza from all the way across state, and no one's cussing at you or making you feel like shit or trying to put you down, just glad that you're alive.
But even after that you still hear the words in your head. They're not voices, it's only one "thing" in your head. Soon enough you realize all this time it was you. Just some deep, dark, vile part of you that wants hurt. It wants suffering and pain. It craves it. You realize the only thing you can do to fix it is to let it speak. Hear it, let is speak its mind, then give it a million reasons as to why it's so wrong. So utterly, unbelievably wrong. Then you start proving it wrong with what you do. You start working hard, working out, getting good grades, because that deep dark part of you is spewing bile at you day in and day out.
But you'll never stop thinking about the day you decided to shove your head so far up your own ass that you could chew the back of your own tongue. The day you thought you knew what was up and then reality brought its solid iron boot heel down on you. The day you almost died and didn't care, all for something that you made in your mind. It never goes away.
One time in my life I thought I was irredeemable. I tried to run, didn't get far. When I went out into the world I thought I knew how bad things could get. When you're walking down a snowy road in the middle of winter in Minnesota, with only a sweatshirt, black pants, boots, and a stupid little wooden "knife", just out of the blue, because you've been thinking about running for so long and finally decided to nut up or shut up, that's when the world says,
"Alright, kid. You think you're tough shit?"
When the blizzard's coming in and you're sprinting a mile back to the house you passed a mile ago, and you know there's people in there, and you're banging on the door and begging them to let you in because you're gonna freeze to death and you're just a stupid kid and you swear to God you're not going to hurt them, and then they don't let you in or even speak to you, that's when it hits you. It hits you so hard exactly how bad things can get for you.
Then when the cop pulls up, while you're laying in the ditch just waiting for the cold to take you, saying "fuck it, I've shamed myself enough. I'm not gonna even try getting back. I'll just embarrass myself further", and he takes you back home to your grandparents cabin you were at for the week, and your grandfather isn't screaming or crying, but just calm and collected, waiting to wrap a coat around you, and all your grandmother says is about how wet your clothes are but you don't even feel it, that's when you realize something else the world was trying to show you this whole time you had your head up your ass. It was trying to show you how good things could be. Show you how much your family loves you when your brothers are in tears and your mom comes there all the way from work in tears, your step-dad comes up with pizza from all the way across state, and no one's cussing at you or making you feel like shit or trying to put you down, just glad that you're alive.
But even after that you still hear the words in your head. They're not voices, it's only one "thing" in your head. Soon enough you realize all this time it was you. Just some deep, dark, vile part of you that wants hurt. It wants suffering and pain. It craves it. You realize the only thing you can do to fix it is to let it speak. Hear it, let is speak its mind, then give it a million reasons as to why it's so wrong. So utterly, unbelievably wrong. Then you start proving it wrong with what you do. You start working hard, working out, getting good grades, because that deep dark part of you is spewing bile at you day in and day out.
But you'll never stop thinking about the day you decided to shove your head so far up your own ass that you could chew the back of your own tongue. The day you thought you knew what was up and then reality brought its solid iron boot heel down on you. The day you almost died and didn't care, all for something that you made in your mind. It never goes away.
Such terror you are facing
Isn't it wonderful?
Isn't it wonderful?