Never Let Them Define You

SELF-DESTRUCTIVE CYCLE

She wakes up on her bed, sprawls out her arms, and grasps the sheets as she yawns massively. She rubs her eyes, looks at her hands smudged with black marks, and sighs. Why do I always do that? She sighs deeper, then holds up her head with her hands, and forces herself out of bed. Her feet hit the hardwood floor, then drag across it, and her arms stretch out into the air for another huge yawn. God, why am I so exhausted all the time? Why can't I just wake up and get to it like a normal person? Why am I...ugh.

She slaps herself, widens her eyes, and shakes her head rapidly before looking around at her room. The white brick fireplace with the stoking tools next to it, the marble counter with the stainless steel fridge, the clean, shiny bathroom, the clean, shiny everything, and she sighs as her head falls down. This place is nice...but it's not MY nice; why can't I appreciate anything I have? She picks her head back up and sluggishly heads towards the kitchen area, then makes her cup of overly strong coffee, and falls backward onto the couch. I like this couch, though.

She feels the leather seats of it that are not too dexterous but not too plush, and she pushes herself deeply into the stuffing of it. I wish I could just slip away into this couch, God, I wish. She grasps at the seat and picks herself up, then sits upright and falls over again on her side. I'm so useless, oh my God, just DO SOMETHING, CASSANDRA! PICK. YOURSELF. UP! FOR GOD'S SAKE, Jesus fu- She grabs a plush, embroidered, red pillow and screams, then shoves it in front of her face, and screams at the top of her lungs until she tires herself out and the pillow falls limply from her arms.

She closes her eyes, then breathes deeply but her breath begins to shake quickly, and tears start falling from her eyes. Oh, please bitch, are you-UGH, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU HAVE A NICE LIFE, A GOOD MAN, A GOOD JOB, YOU'RE FUCKING RICH, AND YOU DON'T TAKE SHIT FROM ANYBODY! WHY. AREN'T. YOU. HAPPY?! She screams again but not into a pillow, then sobs profusely before rolling over forward, and tumbling off the front of the couch. Ow. Ugh...ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, UGH! Sometimes I stand tall and sometimes I fall, but no matter how the fire burns, I know it'll burn out. Quoting myself, wow, Jesus, you are self-obsessed.

She screams into the pillow again, somehow managing to go to an even higher part of her chest, reaching into her heart, and reaching through the roof and so high into the sky that no one can feel her anymore. No one could judge her if she could just disappear into some far-off place that no one knows. She often ponders what would happen if she just ran, booked a plane, made reservations, and bounced around the world. I guess I could live like my mom does, but...money runs out, time runs out, I run out, and all that will be left of me is the silent sound of falling through the Earth. Not gonna judge myself for quoting me, I am a creative genius after all, a prodigy, a FUCKING GODDESS, aren't I? I'm practically perfect if you asked any of my fans; I wish I could just live the way they see me, planning ahead ten steps, always dreaming, and always knowing what to do.

She picks herself up from the floor, then walks up to the counter and grabs her espresso, and brings it to the couch to drink it. When she sips it, her face scrunches and she recoils immediately, then her face un-squeezes and turns to a more inquisitive look, and she swirls the drink around in her cup. What if I could live without the cream and sugar? No more fake smiles, no more Josephine-isms, just owning my shit, and truly not letting anybody tell me how to own it. What if I could just let go of the fear of judgement? I already hate pleasing people, why don't I stop trying to, and let people's thoughts about me sit without having to correct them?

She shakes her head, looks up and squints into space, then looks back down at her espresso, and slowly takes another sip. She drinks slowly at first with the scrunched face, but her face evens out and she keeps drinking faster and faster, and then lifts up the mug and dumps the last of it straight down her gullet. She slams the cup on the table and smiles maniacally. Another! I'm onto something.