tomorrow.

i ran through the rainy air tonight, waiting for the water slashing across my face to drown the thoughts of emptiness, of darkness.

alone again.

step after step, i measure solitude in drops of rain. so how much longer?
the wind rushes past, but it has no answers for me. run, i hear. and i oblige, and match my speed, until i can no longer feel it pushing against the small of my back.

run.

ever since i was young, i am doing just that. running, escaping, hiding. i play in darkness, in silence, even though it scares the living daylights out of me. where am i coming from? what happens after?

i have no answers.

i pass an old house. dead cat on the road. a car is rushing past me, showering the sidewalk with wet, shivering sparks of light.
i shrug the water off, and push my body for more speed, until i hear the wind whistle in my earphone cords. the music of my desperate attempt to gain some answers from the night.

i know i cannot do this for too long. that soon enough, i will be broken, and before long old fractures will be singing their pain through my legs. i will crawl home and lie there broken on my bed.
but this pain will be easier to deal with.

as a truck rushes towards me i wonder, what it is that holds me back to life.
without you i see no point, really. i have done this for so many years.
i do not want to do this any more. and the curiosity tickles my mind.

i hold back.

where are you, friend?

why are you not yet here?

i have been looking for you for so long. i have been looking into every pair of eyes i met, trying to see if, finally, i can stop waiting.
if i can leave this gnawing pain behind.

several times i thought that i found you, but every time i was mistaken.

please find me.
find me before long.

i am not sure how much more will to live i do yet harbor.

tomorrow I'm going to wake up and have my breakfast.

I am awake now. Finished showering. Ready for a brand new day. All is as it is in life. It just is. And I'm rambling on about nothing, just to write something. Something which I can look back on.

I woke up this morning...and realized my eyes hurt. I threw my hand over my eyes, 10 minutes later realizing it was the sunlight streaming in through my window. God how I love the morning sunlight. It's so beautiful the way it streams in through my window, another day, a fresh start. Hallejuah says the atheist for she knows no word to describe the feeling she feels when she sees the morning sunlight. Joy & exhultation. That's what she feels. That's what I feel as I switch back and forth between 3rd and 1st person as I type these words.

I love the sunlight. It has symbolic meaning for me. When i was deepy depressed, and I couldnt take it anymore, I'd just go to bed & I'd feel better in the morning. There is a dawn to the blackest of nights & we often forget that there WILL be a dawn, when we feel as though our pain will never go away. We forget. We lose hope...and when we lose hope we lose our will to live & it's as if we are half-dead.

Hope is precious. It keeps us holding on when we want so badly to let go. To surrender into the darkness and the pain.

If we give up, we will never stand up. Ever.

"Never, never, NEVER, give up" - Winston Churchill

He was right. We should never give up. He never gave up. Not when Germany conquered poland, chezoslovakia or France. Nor when the Nazis were banging on Stalin's door.

He fought for his country's freedom.

We shoud fight for our souls/piece of mind too. It's our little country to defend. We can never give up to the darkness. If the sunlight isnt shining in through our windows we have to find a lamp and shed our own light until the morning comes. Light to keep away the fear, the hopelessness, the tears, a light to comfort us.

Oh never give up.

Ever.

Forever rage rage against the dying of your inner light. For it is precious, more than you will ever know.

And smile...smile even if you are sad, angry, or just cant stand on your own anymore. We only have a set amount of time on this earth. So smile....work through your pain...

and you'll find that light...it'll come and your soul will be warmed again.

-Soph

Wow dead, that was riveting and very touching you should make it into a short story or something I love the writing but anyways

life is pretty hard, I've been lonely for many a year, and sat in the silence of the night with similar thoughts

*hugs dead*

we're all here for you and you're not alone in these feelings and pangs

wake up tomorrow grab something to eat, then go to school or go to work, or just go somewhere do something productive running is great becuase it feels good, and it's good for you and it's doing something with your life

order out or dine in watch a funny movie or your favorite tv show take a long shower, sleep with a teddy bear and call it a day

evanescencefan91 said:

Wow dead, that was riveting and very touching you should make it into a short story or something I love the writing but anyways

life is pretty hard, I've been lonely for many a year, and sat in the silence of the night with similar thoughts

*hugs dead*

we're all here for you and you're not alone in these feelings and pangs

wake up tomorrow grab something to eat, then go to school or go to work, or just go somewhere do something productive running is great becuase it feels good, and it's good for you and it's doing something with your life

order out or dine in watch a funny movie or your favorite tv show take a long shower, sleep with a teddy bear and call it a day

Click to expand...

^ you are awesome lol XD
and i agree XD

i wake up to a foggy morning, as a small cloud seeps into my room. i open the windows, letting it inside. where are you? i cannot see too far today, and there is a small comfort in the claustrophobia the fog creates.

i love the fog. when i was small, i could imagine creatures walking in it, on tall, slender legs, ligaments stretching and falling, as they carefully step between buildings people, dogs and trees. their fur misty and wet from walking in the rain, and the slight musky smell they'd leave behind as they walk past. lost souls on the hunt... or maybe they just like looking at everything from far up high.

their heads would be above the clouds, and they would see each other freely, even when the ground hides in mist.
i am not tall enough, i muse.
i cannot see them anymore. i'm no longer a kid. but i am still not tall enough. i cannot find you in this mist.

walk with me today.

i don't know where you are. but maybe you are walking there with me, lost in the mists. we'll be like deep sea divers, marveling at the miles of shining water far above our heads.

maybe we'd see each other, suddenly. you'd smile, and i would be startled, as i feel something long silent, dead perhaps, shift, move and slither in my chest. i'd try and smile, curling the tips of my lips up, exhilarated and oh, so afraid.
you'd look aside, avoiding me. your pace would hasten, as you you'd hurry past, scared maybe, put off by my old clothes, or my eyes. or maybe you'd be able to tell just how desperately lonely i have been, and the world would shift back to gray. but i would not mind.

i'd know that you exist, even if you won't notice me.

my coffee cools as i am finishing those lines.
perhaps you would be reading this. who knows.

i read the comments, thank you everyone, sophia, evanescence fan (a hug? @_@).
the_one, i hope your breakfast is good.

the day waits, lurking at my door.
it's time to face it. have a good one, everyone.

dead out.

i am thinking of darkness tonight.
darkness of heart, darkness of sky, somewhere far above my eyes. when does the air ends, and space begins?

i live on borders between things. on thin lines. i am not quite, not really, almost, sortof, could pass for. not one thing, nor another.
i live, and yet inside me nothing seems to show signs of life. i have acquaintances but no friends.

and it is these long hours, between night and morning, that i open my eyes to.

long ago, not for long, i thought that i know what is right and wrong. i thought that i have answers. the feeling lasted only for several hours, but to this day i still remember how it felt.
i was at peace, for the one, only time in my entire life.

and i was not afraid.

what do you fear?

(i think i fear me).

(((((((((((((((((((((((hug)))))))))))))))))))))))))))

somewhere far away, maybe across entire continents, carried on their mammoth shifting planes, you will open your eyes to the sunrise, your skin reflecting golden light from the far, shining star.

it's born so far, and yet it can touch you, this light. from heat and violence, from stress and pressure it will come, to fall so softly on your hair, and glisten on your lashes, playing gently on your lips. maybe you'll notice how it clings to you, how you will seem to gather light around your being, like an aura, or a scent.

the floor will meet your reaching toes, you will stand up and walk towards the window, perhaps. i wonder if your ears will whisper you of singing birds, or maybe tell of the commotion of a street below. your eyes will bring you news of world outside, of colours, shapes. of light.

________________

down here, in a corner of this tiny room, i will be drowning in the darkness of my core, my eyes shut tight. i will be clinging to a vision fading fast.
the knife no longer leaves my hands. and as i hold it, i can see old stains laugh at me from the once so clean and perfect blade.

loser.

no good.

you know that you deserve all this.
he held you down, and did whatever pleased him. he'd shove you into walls. or set your clothes of fire, and laugh as you perform your frantic strips. he'd take whatever you had left, and either use it to tease you, or to watch you squirm as you would see the things you care about destroyed. and tell you how you're better dead. well. (as if i do not know.)

i want to die.

no. maybe. i just wish that i did not exist.

dead said:

somewhere far away, maybe across entire continents, carried on their mammoth shifting planes, you will open your eyes to the sunrise, your skin reflecting golden light from the far, shining star.

it's born so far, and yet it can touch you, this light. from heat and violence, from stress and pressure it will come, to fall so softly on your hair, and glisten on your lashes, playing gently on your lips. maybe you'll notice how it clings to you, how you will seem to gather light around your being, like an aura, or a scent.

the floor will meet your reaching toes, you will stand up and walk towards the window, perhaps. i wonder if your ears will whisper you of singing birds, or maybe tell of the commotion of a street below. your eyes will bring you news of world outside, of colours, shapes. of light.

Click to expand...

This is beautiful, thank you

---

dead said:

down here, in a corner of this tiny room, i will be drowning in the darkness of my core, my eyes shut tight. i will be clinging to a vision fading fast.
the knife no longer leaves my hands. and as i hold it, i can see old stains laugh at me from the once so clean and perfect blade.

loser.

no good.

you know that you deserve all this.
he held you down, and did whatever pleased him. he'd shove you into walls. or set your clothes of fire, and laugh as you perform your frantic strips. he'd take whatever you had left, and either use it to tease you, or to watch you squirm as you would see the things you care about destroyed. and tell you how you're better dead. well. (as if i do not know.)

i want to die.

no. maybe. i just wish that i did not exist.

Click to expand...

Whatever happened to you, whatever he did to you...it wasnt your fault

What he did was wrong.

Again, I urge you to seek out help. It's either sink or swim...and hell, I'd like for you to come back to these boards years later, telling everyone... "i chose to swim" instead of curling up into a little ball, trying to deal with the pain & failing.

It's ok to ask for help. It may help keep you afloat. No man is an island unto himself.

*hug* Dead...I'm glad you exist.

----Steve

i was wrong.
i'm not surprised. if anything, the world makes sense again. i wonder if it is my own desperate wish to be loved, or something that stirred in you, that bore those hopes.
but no.

she's dying, and you are you again.

how could i forget.
remember how you chased me up those stairs, threatening to kill me. i believed you. and you truly would. i think what stopped you wasn't even fear of the police, but of what your extended family would think.
or when i stood between you and your wife. the bruises graced my back for weeks, and lasted even longer in my mind. (i guess it didn't matter. she kicked me out all the same.) funny. you know, even now, when someone moves near me, i flinch. and i am still afraid of you, although now i know how to protect myself from you.

you know, this is why it hurts.
when i was nine, i read your diary. you wrote in cypher, but it was not complex enough to keep me out.
you were alone. just like me, you were lonely, and sometimes i think you were afraid.

correlations and connections. similarities and differences, shared flaws. i am so very much like you.

good night dad.

dead.

I just wanted to let you know that I read this. (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((dead)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))