Minggu, 07 September 2008
I Hope You Understand...
I saw her the day before,
All I said was "hey"...
Maybe I could have changed it all,
But I didn't know what to say.
Your deep blue eyes and long brown hair,
Gone from this world for good.
I really should have said something,
To make my feelings understood.
Instead I walked past and held my head in shame,
I walked into my next class.
I thought about it long and hard,
And decided tomorrow I wouldn't walk past.
My chance slipped by along with your life,
Maybe I could have made it better...
But now I stand near the coffin and wonder,
If I said something would it even matter?
Maybe you didn't know, but I thought you were beautiful,
Maybe you just hid your own thoughts though.
I should have told you how I felt...
Instead of taking this massive blow.
You don't seem right for suicide,
It's not the person you've ever been...
I guess I was wrong about that too...
And it's too late to let my thoughts out from within.
So now I sit here and think these thoughts,
That maybe I should do it too...
After all, I'd get a second chance,
My second chance to be with you.
True love or not, it seems so right,
Or at least it does to me...
But even if I had told the truth,
There's no way you would agree.
I feel so weird inside right now,
I don't know how you could take it away...
Theres nothing thats ever that bad in life,
To not want to live another day.
I'm sorry I never told you my feelings,
And I'm more sorry you took my chance...
I wish I didn't have this on my back,
And you're life was still in my hands.
Don't you worry, I'll be there soon enough,
I'm sorry, mom and dad...
Theres only one thing I want in life...
The one thing I never had.
I want her love, I want her in my arms,
More than anyone could stand.
This is my goodbye to life,
I hope you understand...
"I want you back....."
My heart skipped a beat; I wanted her, really wanted her. But the superficial scars on my arms still hadn't healed, and the ones on my left wrist still hurt like hell.
"I don't know, Des......." I said.
"I've......changed. Everyone misses you; especially Jessica." She said. God I missed that kid. That little girl melted my heart far more than her big sister Desiree melted my soul.
"I still don't trust you. I've been alone out here, trying to get my head clear. I'm sure you haven't." I said.
"I went on a couple of dates; but it just didn't feel right." She said.
"With who?" I cried.
"Jessie."
Jessie. The guy who was calling her when I was at work. The guy who was setting up dates on her voice mail. The guy she swore was some creepy surfer dude who hung around at her work and totally turned her off, That Jessie....
"I gotta go......." I hung up the phone before she could protest.
I KNEW it! I KNEW what had been going on; as soon as I'm gone, she's on to the next!
The phone rang and I unplugged it. My body felt as if it were electrified, I needed to get numb in a hurry.
I put on some clothes and got into the Eagle. Putting it in drive I headed up the desolate highway to Beaver for some vodka. Booker was in a dry county; you had to cross the state line to get any kind of alcohol. We never had any thing like that in Kuta Bali......Welcome to redneck central.....
back home I mixed the vodka with some vanilla coke and downed a large glass, then another. I tried to get online to talk to someone, some of my invisible "friends", but nobody was on.
The alcohol was hitting me pretty quick and my thoughts turned to Denpasar. I kept thinking about the knife.....I looked at my wrist; the scars were bright red and the scabs had just recently fallen off.
I missed her. No one had ever been that close to me in my entire life. The was a time when it was all good; but was it REALLY? She would get pissy if I didn't answer a question the way SHE wanted me to. She got more and more violent when she was drunk; I had the scars to prove it. There was the cheating.........There was the sex....God there was sex! Everywhere, ANYwhere, hard soft, whatever. But there was the sex with other guys when I wasn't receiving it. There was the abortion. The murder of my baby. How could I even THINK about going back to her? To THAT?!
I looked around the room; empty. No couch, no t.v., no table, no chairs, no fridge, snow blowing in through the sliding glass door. This was the most expensive rental in Booker at $500 a month. FAR less than the dump I was renting in Alpine for $1,750 a month........
It was 9pm, far too early for bed; but there was nothing else to do.
My face was numb.
I slapped my cheeks hard to see how much I could feel.
I finished the 2 liter of vanilla coke and figured I needed to go the 2 blocks to get some more. I stumbled outside in the -2* cold and decided the better of it.
I climbed into the Summit and turned on the radio. I must have listened to "Mr. Brightside" for at least a half an hour.
What was this shit?! I USED to be strong; I was the one whom always said I would never let a woman crush me. I used to put down my brother, my best friend, my uncle after seeing how crushed they were by a mere woman.
"I owe them a big apology." I slurred to myself.
How could she do this to me? How could I let her do this to me? I wanted to be dead so badly, but I wasn't weak enough to actually kill myself. I prayed for the Lord to take me.
I lay in the snow, staring at the full moon in just my pyjama bottoms. I don't know how long I lay there, but I prayed over and over again for the Lord to take me. I didn't want to, COULDN'T bear this any longer; I wanted to die.
Jesus loves me, I know.
He wouldn't take me that night. He had bigger plans for me.
I went inside and watched an old vhs of the Care Bears until I fell sleep.
My heart skipped a beat; I wanted her, really wanted her. But the superficial scars on my arms still hadn't healed, and the ones on my left wrist still hurt like hell.
"I don't know, Des......." I said.
"I've......changed. Everyone misses you; especially Jessica." She said. God I missed that kid. That little girl melted my heart far more than her big sister Desiree melted my soul.
"I still don't trust you. I've been alone out here, trying to get my head clear. I'm sure you haven't." I said.
"I went on a couple of dates; but it just didn't feel right." She said.
"With who?" I cried.
"Jessie."
Jessie. The guy who was calling her when I was at work. The guy who was setting up dates on her voice mail. The guy she swore was some creepy surfer dude who hung around at her work and totally turned her off, That Jessie....
"I gotta go......." I hung up the phone before she could protest.
I KNEW it! I KNEW what had been going on; as soon as I'm gone, she's on to the next!
The phone rang and I unplugged it. My body felt as if it were electrified, I needed to get numb in a hurry.
I put on some clothes and got into the Eagle. Putting it in drive I headed up the desolate highway to Beaver for some vodka. Booker was in a dry county; you had to cross the state line to get any kind of alcohol. We never had any thing like that in Kuta Bali......Welcome to redneck central.....
back home I mixed the vodka with some vanilla coke and downed a large glass, then another. I tried to get online to talk to someone, some of my invisible "friends", but nobody was on.
The alcohol was hitting me pretty quick and my thoughts turned to Denpasar. I kept thinking about the knife.....I looked at my wrist; the scars were bright red and the scabs had just recently fallen off.
I missed her. No one had ever been that close to me in my entire life. The was a time when it was all good; but was it REALLY? She would get pissy if I didn't answer a question the way SHE wanted me to. She got more and more violent when she was drunk; I had the scars to prove it. There was the cheating.........There was the sex....God there was sex! Everywhere, ANYwhere, hard soft, whatever. But there was the sex with other guys when I wasn't receiving it. There was the abortion. The murder of my baby. How could I even THINK about going back to her? To THAT?!
I looked around the room; empty. No couch, no t.v., no table, no chairs, no fridge, snow blowing in through the sliding glass door. This was the most expensive rental in Booker at $500 a month. FAR less than the dump I was renting in Alpine for $1,750 a month........
It was 9pm, far too early for bed; but there was nothing else to do.
My face was numb.
I slapped my cheeks hard to see how much I could feel.
I finished the 2 liter of vanilla coke and figured I needed to go the 2 blocks to get some more. I stumbled outside in the -2* cold and decided the better of it.
I climbed into the Summit and turned on the radio. I must have listened to "Mr. Brightside" for at least a half an hour.
What was this shit?! I USED to be strong; I was the one whom always said I would never let a woman crush me. I used to put down my brother, my best friend, my uncle after seeing how crushed they were by a mere woman.
"I owe them a big apology." I slurred to myself.
How could she do this to me? How could I let her do this to me? I wanted to be dead so badly, but I wasn't weak enough to actually kill myself. I prayed for the Lord to take me.
I lay in the snow, staring at the full moon in just my pyjama bottoms. I don't know how long I lay there, but I prayed over and over again for the Lord to take me. I didn't want to, COULDN'T bear this any longer; I wanted to die.
Jesus loves me, I know.
He wouldn't take me that night. He had bigger plans for me.
I went inside and watched an old vhs of the Care Bears until I fell sleep.
My Sadness...
I was shattered most of my life. Nothing but emotional debris, pieces of my self esteem scattered all over the place with broken tips so it wouldn't stick together even if I matched the pieces. A torn broken puzzle... Pages of my journals scribbled with nothing but suicide threats and smeared with bloody tears.
I had never tasted happiness. I could see others who had it, I could almost feel it, but no matter how much I searched for it, I could never find it. I searched corner after corner, which turned up empty, I flipped over rocks, I found blanks everywhere.
I decided to get lost in a melancholy sea, and it was a comfortable area for me. Somehow I found comfort in being sad. My sadness was the only thing keeping me alive, and I was barely breathing. It felt like being stuck in a void.
Then in 2004 I decided that the world was too cold for me and that my ending would result to suicide. Like a lot of my fellow Pisceans before me, I had chosen death so I could sigh eternally.
I have never been afraid of my own death. To me, death is losing your family and friends on this world and being left alone on earth to cope with the lost, that's my definition of death... I have a close affiliation with the other side so my own death had never scared me, I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, I wrote several goodbye letters to the people I loved (about you know, 5 people), I locked my journals inside a safe hoping they would never be found because I had never found anyone I could share them with, for everyone had I known had always betrayed me in one way or another. I set up my life insurance for everything to make sure my poor mother had enough money to bury my corpse.
It was all carefully planned. The song that would play at the funeral, the clothes I would wear, the poem that was going to be read, and the guilt that I had clearly indicated my plans in advance in so much of my writing and poetry that people should have known and would be sad that they could have saved the Lost Piscean but they didn't…so selfish. Everything was planned and worked out to the very last detail.
They say that you cry for help when your suicidal, whether you hear yourself or not, and being the strong communicator that I am (Mercury in Aquarius which is a very intellectual/humanitarian sign), I must of slipped and mumbled "SOS" out loud somehow. Maybe it was the days I spent mopping around in my room, or the bad live journal entries I would spit out, but somehow someone heard me.
Today, I owe the world to this person, my soul mate who heard my distant frail cry. He carried me through the hardest times of my life, and I wasn’t helping myself to walk at all. Even though I screamed at this person a million times that he didn't understand me, he is possibly the only human who ever did. He didn't even know I was on the verge of suicide at the time, but he somehow still managed to take the loaded gun away from my temple anyway.
Just when I had lost all faith in human kind and had chosen to end my life so I can move on to another realm of things, a new start in the unknown, and an angel came and rescued me...
Now a year later, I'm finally part of the happy people. I've found myself a true soul mate to share my life with and everyday I thank the god/goddesses that I didn't decide to leave this lifetime after all.
Life changes, it may take awhile, but hang in there. I was always the one thinking negative thoughts only. "I was never meant to be happy", I was the "black sheep and would die a spinster", I was burdened with a "dark black sad suicidal faith", now I'm the happiest person around.
It had never occurred to me, that to get happiness that's genuine and real, you have to walk through hard times and bleed lots of blood. Nothing comes for free.
Don't ever give up on life, keep on bleeding….eventually the blood will run dry and you may just meet an angel to pump you with some fresh blood.
I had never tasted happiness. I could see others who had it, I could almost feel it, but no matter how much I searched for it, I could never find it. I searched corner after corner, which turned up empty, I flipped over rocks, I found blanks everywhere.
I decided to get lost in a melancholy sea, and it was a comfortable area for me. Somehow I found comfort in being sad. My sadness was the only thing keeping me alive, and I was barely breathing. It felt like being stuck in a void.
Then in 2004 I decided that the world was too cold for me and that my ending would result to suicide. Like a lot of my fellow Pisceans before me, I had chosen death so I could sigh eternally.
I have never been afraid of my own death. To me, death is losing your family and friends on this world and being left alone on earth to cope with the lost, that's my definition of death... I have a close affiliation with the other side so my own death had never scared me, I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, I wrote several goodbye letters to the people I loved (about you know, 5 people), I locked my journals inside a safe hoping they would never be found because I had never found anyone I could share them with, for everyone had I known had always betrayed me in one way or another. I set up my life insurance for everything to make sure my poor mother had enough money to bury my corpse.
It was all carefully planned. The song that would play at the funeral, the clothes I would wear, the poem that was going to be read, and the guilt that I had clearly indicated my plans in advance in so much of my writing and poetry that people should have known and would be sad that they could have saved the Lost Piscean but they didn't…so selfish. Everything was planned and worked out to the very last detail.
They say that you cry for help when your suicidal, whether you hear yourself or not, and being the strong communicator that I am (Mercury in Aquarius which is a very intellectual/humanitarian sign), I must of slipped and mumbled "SOS" out loud somehow. Maybe it was the days I spent mopping around in my room, or the bad live journal entries I would spit out, but somehow someone heard me.
Today, I owe the world to this person, my soul mate who heard my distant frail cry. He carried me through the hardest times of my life, and I wasn’t helping myself to walk at all. Even though I screamed at this person a million times that he didn't understand me, he is possibly the only human who ever did. He didn't even know I was on the verge of suicide at the time, but he somehow still managed to take the loaded gun away from my temple anyway.
Just when I had lost all faith in human kind and had chosen to end my life so I can move on to another realm of things, a new start in the unknown, and an angel came and rescued me...
Now a year later, I'm finally part of the happy people. I've found myself a true soul mate to share my life with and everyday I thank the god/goddesses that I didn't decide to leave this lifetime after all.
Life changes, it may take awhile, but hang in there. I was always the one thinking negative thoughts only. "I was never meant to be happy", I was the "black sheep and would die a spinster", I was burdened with a "dark black sad suicidal faith", now I'm the happiest person around.
It had never occurred to me, that to get happiness that's genuine and real, you have to walk through hard times and bleed lots of blood. Nothing comes for free.
Don't ever give up on life, keep on bleeding….eventually the blood will run dry and you may just meet an angel to pump you with some fresh blood.
WHERE ARE THE FUCKING PARAMEDICS?!
No it can’t be I won’t let it happen I refuse to let her die, i'm only a little fucking boy what the hell am I supposed to do?
I see the vodka bottle and the now empty valium container along with the other empty pill bottles on the floor. God knows what was in them.
I threw my book bag down and grabbed the cell phone, rushed into the kitchen, tears streaming down my rosy cheeks, as I just had run from the bus stop to my house.
This was normal procedure for me, but what I didn’t expect was to see my friend collapse in front of me into the kitchen floor, as I walked into the house.
“NO! NOOOOO!!” I cried as I talked to her “don’t die Jess!! I love you!!” but no response came from her.
I quickly called 9-1-1 and the lady picked up ‘9-1-1 rescue’ she asked questions to such as what he took and the lady told me to remain calm and everything would be alright.
I remember franticly yelling my address at her and exclaiming HOW CAN EVERY THING BE ALRIGHT! HE ATTEMPTED SUICIDE! He... He... He... OVERDOSED! She asked how old I was.
Since I sounded so young, and yet knew so much about the subject.
I'm 21 years old thank you very much I said sarcastically I don’t know it BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT I know it because it's not the first fucking time he’s done it! I yelled.
In fact this would be the 3rd time I’ve saved her or attempted to save her from most certain death, I thought to myself as she was babbling on about how I need counseling and it would help a great deal.
Blah blah blah blah is all I heard. I didn’t need to hear all that. WHERE ARE THE FUCKING PARAMEDICS?! I yelled.
And moments later they came in the door of the house and I told the lady they were here and I rudely hung up on her.
The paramedic guy asked me where my parents were and I told him my father was at work and my mother lived out-of-state.
So I hopped into the ambulance with my friend and then at the hospital they asked how old he was and I replied he’s 19, everything’s in his wallet, where did you put his belongings?
The nurse handed me a bag of clothing and I shoved my hand in and fished around for the wallet, and handed her his driver’s license and insurance card and she walked out of the room.
By that time I had already called my father and told him what had happened and that he was in the hospital to have his stomach pumped, room 105.
Now he had come to see how he was doing but I told him just go back to work.
I’d take care of him. And he shoved 50$ into my hand and told me to call a cab when he was released, take her home and make sure you stay here tonight.
Don’t you fucking go around getting drunk or whoreing around tonight you hear me? Yeah yeah I hear you Dad!!!
Now just go get lost and leave me be, and with that he left. This was normal for her; it didn’t shock me at all.
My Daddy hated Jessica, after all it was his step-son but never the less I always took care of her.
“Oh God Jessica don’t die on me, this would make TWO people in my life now that have died from suicide, I wont let you go you’re the only one I have left!
Remember all the good times we had? DAMNIT don’t you remember?!” and I cried myself to sleep right by hier side, in the chair and I didn’t wake up until the next morning when I heard Jessica’s voice she had said...
“well good morning sleepy head!” and I rushed to her side and gave her a big hug, “thank you God... your not dead, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you”
I see the vodka bottle and the now empty valium container along with the other empty pill bottles on the floor. God knows what was in them.
I threw my book bag down and grabbed the cell phone, rushed into the kitchen, tears streaming down my rosy cheeks, as I just had run from the bus stop to my house.
This was normal procedure for me, but what I didn’t expect was to see my friend collapse in front of me into the kitchen floor, as I walked into the house.
“NO! NOOOOO!!” I cried as I talked to her “don’t die Jess!! I love you!!” but no response came from her.
I quickly called 9-1-1 and the lady picked up ‘9-1-1 rescue’ she asked questions to such as what he took and the lady told me to remain calm and everything would be alright.
I remember franticly yelling my address at her and exclaiming HOW CAN EVERY THING BE ALRIGHT! HE ATTEMPTED SUICIDE! He... He... He... OVERDOSED! She asked how old I was.
Since I sounded so young, and yet knew so much about the subject.
I'm 21 years old thank you very much I said sarcastically I don’t know it BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT I know it because it's not the first fucking time he’s done it! I yelled.
In fact this would be the 3rd time I’ve saved her or attempted to save her from most certain death, I thought to myself as she was babbling on about how I need counseling and it would help a great deal.
Blah blah blah blah is all I heard. I didn’t need to hear all that. WHERE ARE THE FUCKING PARAMEDICS?! I yelled.
And moments later they came in the door of the house and I told the lady they were here and I rudely hung up on her.
The paramedic guy asked me where my parents were and I told him my father was at work and my mother lived out-of-state.
So I hopped into the ambulance with my friend and then at the hospital they asked how old he was and I replied he’s 19, everything’s in his wallet, where did you put his belongings?
The nurse handed me a bag of clothing and I shoved my hand in and fished around for the wallet, and handed her his driver’s license and insurance card and she walked out of the room.
By that time I had already called my father and told him what had happened and that he was in the hospital to have his stomach pumped, room 105.
Now he had come to see how he was doing but I told him just go back to work.
I’d take care of him. And he shoved 50$ into my hand and told me to call a cab when he was released, take her home and make sure you stay here tonight.
Don’t you fucking go around getting drunk or whoreing around tonight you hear me? Yeah yeah I hear you Dad!!!
Now just go get lost and leave me be, and with that he left. This was normal for her; it didn’t shock me at all.
My Daddy hated Jessica, after all it was his step-son but never the less I always took care of her.
“Oh God Jessica don’t die on me, this would make TWO people in my life now that have died from suicide, I wont let you go you’re the only one I have left!
Remember all the good times we had? DAMNIT don’t you remember?!” and I cried myself to sleep right by hier side, in the chair and I didn’t wake up until the next morning when I heard Jessica’s voice she had said...
“well good morning sleepy head!” and I rushed to her side and gave her a big hug, “thank you God... your not dead, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you”
You Think This Is Stupid?
Dear friends don't worry. You think this is stupid, its not.
I wish I could make you understand every single thought running through my head driving me to this point, pulling me, all but demanding me to go there.
There's no one word, no one way to describe it. It hurts me yes, but it also brings me joy, it makes me cry, makes me cut myself, makes me bleed scream and lash out.
But there's so much more to it that I can't begin to explain.
Please listen dear friends; please don't hate me for what I have to say, what I have to do, what words I carelessly scrawl down in an effort to make you understand.
I'm broken, broken into pieces to small for you to comprehend, you can’t help me put them together. And I can’t help myself.
So please understand that I'm already gone, already forever lost to this world. A shell can only do so much, and this shell has reached its limits.
My pieces are scattered, some I don't even recognize, some I don't want to take back, and some, my friends, you are smashing even further.
Please understand that I'm sorry, that this is what I feel I must do, please understand this is my salvation, this is what I want, this will make me happy.
Please don't think that I'm selfish.
If anything you are the ones that are greedy asking me to stay where I can not, if anything you are the ones that are heartless.
Bounding me to a world that holds no place for me. My broken soul wants free from this torment, hell would be a relief.
Heaven I can not ask for, I have no right to even set eyes upon such a happy place.
Ironically I speak of things in which I do not believe, that's right in my world there is no heaven or hell, I do not believe in god or satan, I do not capitalize their names in respect for in my mind their merely an idea, not a person.
I do not go to church, I do not pray or hope that god shows mercy on me, because he never has and I don't think he ever will.
Please dear friends, bear with me. Have you ever wanted to just make it all go away, that's what I'm doing.
Have you ever wanted a break, that's what I'm getting. Have you ever wanted to prove that you’re right, worth something, that's what I'm doing.
Dear friends I know you all at one point have wished you were dead, that one point hasn't stopped for me, nor will it until I die, I'm just making my every dream, come true.
Please don't hate me for that.
I wish I could make you understand every single thought running through my head driving me to this point, pulling me, all but demanding me to go there.
There's no one word, no one way to describe it. It hurts me yes, but it also brings me joy, it makes me cry, makes me cut myself, makes me bleed scream and lash out.
But there's so much more to it that I can't begin to explain.
Please listen dear friends; please don't hate me for what I have to say, what I have to do, what words I carelessly scrawl down in an effort to make you understand.
I'm broken, broken into pieces to small for you to comprehend, you can’t help me put them together. And I can’t help myself.
So please understand that I'm already gone, already forever lost to this world. A shell can only do so much, and this shell has reached its limits.
My pieces are scattered, some I don't even recognize, some I don't want to take back, and some, my friends, you are smashing even further.
Please understand that I'm sorry, that this is what I feel I must do, please understand this is my salvation, this is what I want, this will make me happy.
Please don't think that I'm selfish.
If anything you are the ones that are greedy asking me to stay where I can not, if anything you are the ones that are heartless.
Bounding me to a world that holds no place for me. My broken soul wants free from this torment, hell would be a relief.
Heaven I can not ask for, I have no right to even set eyes upon such a happy place.
Ironically I speak of things in which I do not believe, that's right in my world there is no heaven or hell, I do not believe in god or satan, I do not capitalize their names in respect for in my mind their merely an idea, not a person.
I do not go to church, I do not pray or hope that god shows mercy on me, because he never has and I don't think he ever will.
Please dear friends, bear with me. Have you ever wanted to just make it all go away, that's what I'm doing.
Have you ever wanted a break, that's what I'm getting. Have you ever wanted to prove that you’re right, worth something, that's what I'm doing.
Dear friends I know you all at one point have wished you were dead, that one point hasn't stopped for me, nor will it until I die, I'm just making my every dream, come true.
Please don't hate me for that.
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