Stories

Life

This never-ending nightmare, hah, just that, never-ending, always continuing, nothing helps. I don't understand what I have to do, I try to distract myself with pointless ventures. Creating crafts, modelling lives. Being a god in my own world. A world that slowly is consuming me. It is great, probably, to drown your thoughts out in your own fictional universe, A place where no one can bear to know what happens in your head. A place where you control every living being, Like clockwork. You create their lives, like your life is being controlled. Hah, it is great, being a god. But that is just it. I am not a god. I am a mere mortal in the face of my own existence. But I cannot control that, no, I only control what I create.

Or so it seems. Until the day came that I felt like I could control everything. My books slowly started seeping into the real world. I had only known because of the coincidences. Hah, dreaded coincidences. That number. That eye. That cult. They were all reminiscent of myself. My books, fragments of my past. I don't know why I try.

Like the emotional pull in my head. I feel like I am alone. But also, free. Also known, yet can see.

But like everything I do. It is worthless. Pointless. Unknown.

I try.

I try so hard. But they don't listen.

Hah. They don't believe.

They think it is fiction. FICTION. Hah. That is a joke. This world probably is fiction.

Why does it matter? They just don't understand. I try to explain but to no avail. Hah.

In the darkest of my times I just sit and regret. I feel the guilt inside of me. My monsters and demons consume me. The darkness shows no light.

But the light only hides the darkness, for the slow low time of unknowing.

I try to help myself, I really do,

She said do research, don't diagnose. I try. They call me smart and intelligent.

But, like everything else. I disagree. If I was intelligent why do I fail? Why am I told that I don't try hard enough, that I am an embarrassment? By the people that don't understand the feeling I have, the things that happen. They say I won't do anything in life. Hah. I feel like I should believe them. So, I do.

My attempts to help myself are pointless. They don't help. I am trying to prevent the inevitable. It will take over. I will get locked up.

Because I cannot control it.

It controls me.

I can fight the urge but it can only stop it for so long.

The urge to kill. Myself and others. I hate it. But it is the struggle in my mind.

I know I am going to hurt the people I care about. How? I don't know. Through pain of death, and pain of left.

I wish they understand. Understood.

The abuse. The lies. The greed. Money. Love. Revenge. Pain. My torture.

It is so soon until they leave, the people I care about and the people I hate.

They leave anyway. I shouldn't be affected yet I am. I am told not to talk to them by the people I look up to. The people who 'love' me.

Hah. The funny thing is.

That I don't know. I lose track, I lose control. I lose my knowledge, my memory. It makes life hard. But I cannot control it.

As much as I do want to get better, I am scared. If I take the drugs I will lose myself. If I get therapy I will lose them. If I leave it alone the demons will take over. Not even the demons. My fragments will stay. They shattered before and now they continue to create my never-ending struggle.

I promised the people I love that I wouldn't do it. And I plan on keeping that promise. That scared promise.

I know to myself that my life matters.

It is only a matter of time.

-fin-