Way out


My eyes were always looking for a way out. Every car that passed me by was an opportunity to jump in front of it. Every wire and rope a possible way to hang myself. Every blade something I could carve into my skin. Everything seemed like a possible way out to me. I struggled with suicide for years. It was not something I felt I could share with anyone. Not something anyone could truly understand unless you lived it. So I cried into pillows at night unsure of my fate. I hated myself, hate powerful enough that I could snuff out my own soul.

The words courage and coward seemed to change meaning. I thought I was a coward because I couldn’t kill myself. Others would call it brave, that I had the courage to keep living. All I wanted was to escape. To keep walking till I was far away from all my problems, till my mind stopped bullying me. “To sleep and perchance to dream.” Like Hamlet however I was afraid of what dreams such a sleep would bring.

A warped mind is a warped reality. Trying to convince me to simply cheer up, was like trying to convince me the sky was red. Depression was my reality. It made up my life and was everywhere. The sad moments hurt me, and the Happy moments only reminded me of the bad. I look back thinking on how I would help myself and by extension help others in the now. I have no simple answer. Just someone to recognize my existence and an available ear goes a long way.



Despite this cruel world…

Despite this cruel world, or perhaps because it is cruel, new stories are created everyday. Even though I fear people, am forever fascinated by them. There is a mystery to every person, a puzzle to be solved to explain every action. Thousands of Aesop’s Fables in every life. Love, hate, sadness, am addicted to each emotion always trying to feel more. Each story a fascinating look into the mind of another, each mind its own universe that will never fully be understood.

I saw a couple riding the bus with a very old and sickly looking dog. Their tired eyes begged for sleep. The dog sat on a blanket in the middle of the aisle. Dirty clothes and tired eyes told a tale that I could not even begin to express. Despite the fact that I did not have the courage to say a word to them the scene was implanted into my mind. Each passenger gave them their space as they tried to get a little sleep with heads against the window. I gave the dog a pat on the head before I left them.


What should i be doing?

What should i be doing with myself? Such a simple question, but many like me have no answers. I’ve never understood the people that had goals in life. Perhaps because my goal has always been to try and live till tomorrow. Lacking of purpose it becomes hard to place yourself in the world. However, screw it! You’re already in your place in the world, you don’t need any more or less than that. You may feel like you have no purpose in life, but most people have very little or no purpose as well. The only purpose you need to worry about is trying to survive and trying to stay sane and happy.