"I’m in love with cities I’ve never been to and people I’ve never met.."
This is all about me, and my life taken a little less seriously..
A mishmash of thoughts from the diaries of a chick who don't intend to please anybody with my posts. I've very few re-blogs, some edited pictures, quotes, music and all things in between. All posts are mine unless otherwise stated.
And so it began.. It's a little too late to save me now.
It was not only you who have wished that things were different. I have wished for it too.
Sadly, my dear, we live in two separate worlds where mine is slightly different than yours and try as we may to ignore the factors separating us, they continue to haunt. The past is embedded in every cell of your body, and it reaches out to me with every touch. The tenderness could not take it away. There’s just too much that I drown in it, every fucking time.
So how do you look away when the truth is looking at you straight in the eye? Do you turn away and pretend it wasn’t there? How do you run away from reality if there really ever was an escape from it? Temporarily, maybe. You can keep running but there’s never gonna be any assurance that it won’t find you again. You can hide amongst the colorful clouds of make believe, live in the comfort of a false hope until you could no longer stand the screaming voices inside your head.
Maybe there’s more comfort in solitude. I think I’m beginning to understand why some people prefer to be alone. It’s that peacefulness you have within yourself, the kind of silence that doesn’t destroy every inch of your being. As opposed to a treacherous scene where everything is lively on the outside but the reality is you’re slowly withering away.
And there is no sadder death than to be sucked in to a dream, unsure of waking up but the uncertainty doesn’t change the truth. The sad, bitter truth that you have to wake up anytime soon and leave the comfort you’ve come so familiar with. And what is it about leaving that makes us all weak and afraid? Aren’t we taught NOT to hold on to people who have their own free will to leave? If things can change, imagine what can happen to people.
Promises are merely words, which can be thrown and withdrawn, it’s only a matter of time before you realize they never existed. All hopes, dreams, plans, everything you thought was gonna happen, all of it down the fucking drain. It would be taken away so fast you won’t know what hit you. You close your eyes and let the huge wave of pain come crashing down until there’s nothing left.
You’re not dead yet but you’re not entirely living either, You’re just barely there, a great masterpiece of misery and remorse.
She held onto his arms although she knew it was no use. He stood firm, staring into nothingness. Those warm brown eyes that used to stare at her so tenderly are now a pair of cold daggers.
"Please.. Don’t go.. Don’t leave me.." She managed to say through choked tears, hating herself for begging in spite of promising she won’t ever beg for someone to stay. Ever again. But as fate would have it, here she is now, wretched and in the mercy of the man whom she dearly loved but obviously could not love her as much in return. She is now wondering if she ever knew him or was he a different person before?
He clutched his bag tighter, the veins in his arms start to become visible. "I have to. Please understand, they need me more than you do."
That was it. She already knew those words. Even though it was unspoken for the most part of their short lives together, she knew. She knew a lot of things she wished were not real. She hid behind the fantasy he promised and now that the fantasy’s over, she can’t step back to reality without breaking.
She cried, after all what else is left to do? “I know.. but..” what else is left to say? Forget them and stay? She knew she could never make him change his mind. She closed her eyes as the pain started to hit her entire body, from the strands of her hair to her neatly manicured toes then it penetrated inside every nerve ending, every cells and every part of her being. Why is this feeling so close to dying?
He opened the door, "I’m sorry…" he said even though he doesn’t sound like it. Not even close.
After a brief moment, he was gone. The door clicked and then there’s silence all around the house where he left a gazillion of memories to haunt her. The stairs, the dining table, chairs, the ashtray filled with cigarette butts, the empty bottles in the kitchen, everywhere she looked, it belonged to him.
She sat at a corner and wept. She started crying hours earlier yet she could not convince herself to stop. The pain is just too much that the tears could not seem to lessen it. It was actually getting worse with every breath she takes. Why does it hurt so much? Why is the pain a hundred times greater than the abrupt happiness she felt?
Questions arise and promises linger around the room. They stayed to keep her company. She wanted them to leave, she wanted to forget, hell she wanted to disappear if that’s the only way to free herself from this misery. A thought came up, 'Well since everyone's leaving, might as well cherish the ones that stay'. She straightened her back against the chair she’s sitting on and watched as her world succumbed to the severe torment.
She lie on the ground, disgustingly naked and helpless as the man pumped from her behind. I kicked her face, "How’d you like being ass-fucked?"
The man looked at me, "Why not ask if I’m liking this? This woman’s cunt is so used up I had to penetrate the ass just to feel something tight around my cock."
I shook my head, "Why was I not surprised? This bitch has been knocked up quite a few times already.."
He grunted before finishing up, "Oh I see." He stood up and zipped up his pants, "How can someone so ugly have such loose vagina?"
We both laughed before I turned to her. "You didn’t answer me, how did that feel?" She looked away, sobbing. I kicked her mouth hard, blood started trickling down her chin. “You look at me when I am talking to you! Understand?!” I shouted, kicking once more. She choked as some teeth fell off.
I fished out a knife from my pocket, “You know, I’ve always hated your prominent moles. Let me help you with that.”
She tried to get up but I nodded at the man to hold her down, "Don’t move, this might cut something else.." I held her face, inching the knife closer to that big irritating mole beside her left eye, "Here goes.." I started scraping it off.
She’s screaming while trying to squirm away from our grip. I laughed as the mole fell away from her face. I pulled it out, it was bleeding in my hands. "Here, it’s done." I held it in front of her face, "You should thank me"
I threw it away and focused on my next target. "Now onto the smaller ones." I said as I immediately cut another mole right above her upper lip. Her face is now bleeding from the cuts I made. Blood mixed with her tears and some dirt.
"Do you have any idea how old and gross you look? Huh?" I asked, spitting out every word. "I’d rather die than have a face like yours." I pushed her hard so that her entire body is parallel to the ground.
Man#2 stood beside me. “She’s starting to stink real bad, let’s get rid of her” he pulled out the gun from his coat and looked at me, "Do the honor."
"With pleasure" I said, smiling triumphantly as I took it from him. The loaded gun is cold and heavy against my palm. I walked closer to her for a better aim, unlocking the gun’s safety. "Oh before I forgot.. " I reached for my jeans’ pocket and pulled out the photo which has haunted me for a long time. "Here’s your happy family picture. Don’t want you to die all alone, ya’ know?" I rolled the photo and inserted it in her swelling vagina. "There ya’ go. Take this with you." with that last word, I pulled the trigger and shot her dead.
Her body went limb as more blood started to flow out. I am not done yet. I shot again and again…and again, until the gun went out of bullets.
They unloaded the gasoline from the car, and began spilling it all over the corpse. One lit a match and I stared as the freshly demised body started to catch fire. The fire spread fast, the stench of burning hair, skin and bones filled the cool night air.
It’s over, they said. "Yes," I agreed as I handed the gun over, "It finally is."