Reoccurring Connection between Love & Evil

Reoccurring Connection Between Love & Evil

Reoccurring nightmares haunt people like me, for years. Nightmares are bad memories and fear that are stuck in your brain. That's my opinion, I'm not stating that as a fact. When a nightmare repeats itself over and over again, that means it has implanted itself into your brain, and has zero plans to vacate. Again, simply my opinion. To me, that's terrifying, I feel for people who have reoccurring nightmares, because I know how much it hurts. I know how frightening it can be. It's very easy to get frustrated, especially with yourself. I get angry with myself, because I don't know how to get these nightmares out of my head. Let me paint you a picture, a very scary one.

I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, below there is nothing but fire and the voices of people screaming. Somebody always screams "I'm burning for being myself." Every single time, and it makes me cry. In my left ear, somebody whispers "Crying doesn't save you, it only makes you weak." My left ear is ripped off. I can't scream, my mouth has been sewn shut. In my right ear, a whisper...."Everything you are is sin, and that is why you have to stay forever." My right ear is ripped off, and I'm pushed from the cliff into the fire below. I feel myself burning, and the nightmare ends.

My worst enemy could ask me to give them that experience, and I would refuse. I have a few theories about that nightmare, regardless, I wish that it would stop haunting me. The strangest thing about it, is that it connects to a reoccurring dream I have. Let me paint you a much prettier picture.

I'm sitting on a beach at night, surrounded by a circle of people. I don't recognize these people, but it feels like these people are my friends. I see that they are talking, and laughing but I can't hear their voices. I hear guitar music, and the waves. It smells like Fantasia incense, and burning firewood. There are so many stars in the sky, it makes me cry. In my left ear, a loving voice tells me "It's okay to cry, it makes you human." I'm kissed on my left cheek, somebody holds my left hand. In my right ear, I hear, "We love you for you, please stay with us forever." I'm kissed on my right cheek, and my right hand is held. I close my eyes, and that's the end. 

I feel lucky when I have that dream. Most mornings, I cry when I wake up because it makes me sad that I'm still alive. When I have that dream, I don't cry because I'm sad. I cry, because I'm happy. The nightmare came first, and it scares me as much now as it did the first time it happened. I needed it to be a one time occurrence, but of course, it was not. The second time it happened, I knew it was here to stay, and I was devastated. Having that kind of evil in my head makes me feel like a monster. I grew up thinking that my appearance and personality would send me to Hell. I've said it before, this is a place where differences are not welcomed with open arms. Something must have triggered me, because lost memories are coming home. The nightmare started months ago.

The dream started a few weeks ago, and I knew right away where it came from. It's so similar to the nightmare, it wasn't hard for me to figure it out. My brain created a counter world to escape that nightmare. That nightmare scares me so much, that I created it's much nicer cousin, without even knowing it. I didn't go to sleep thinking "I need to push the nightmare away with a better world"....it just happened. They're both so short, the length of a dream or nightmare that fades the very second you open your eyes. These don't fade, they hover than hide until they're ready to come out and play again. The nightmare is a Hell issue obviously. So, anybody could assume that the dream is a Heaven thing. Only, it's not. The nightmare feels like Hell, the dream doesn't feel like Heaven. It just feels like a better place, one that I could be in and not hear the monsters all the time. They're so loud these days, I can barely hear anything else. I drown them out with music as often as I can. There's lyrics to match the dream.

♫"This is happiness, to be everything at once.

Be un-blinded, be unlearned, be unbridled and un-burned." ♫

Those lyrics are from a song called "No Parallels" by Hands like Houses. One of my favorite songs and bands ever. Anyways, the lyrics remind me of the place in my dream. I haven't been able to match lyrics to the nightmare, but I believe that to be a positive thing. 

I have a pretty solid idea of what's coming my way soon. I'm scared, but, it's alright. This world isn't a place that I need to be, there is no help. Not for me. I'm still okay with that. I just hope whoever takes my place, has a purpose. 

Purpose & Villains

When you are the human version of the headache, life can get pretty tedious. Especially when you wake up every morning knowing that that's what you are. When you have little monsters in your head, and they spend every waking minute bullying you, life becomes oppressive. That's morbid, I know but it's what's real. Changing it stopped being  an option a long time ago. People will say things. They do say things.

"You're crazy."

"Stop being so depressed."

"You need help."

It's true, I do need help, however, I am beyond it. I accept that, because I'm trapped inside of my own head. Imagine being punched from the inside of your skull. Not that I would wish that on anybody, I apologize. Explaination isn't really my strong suite anymore. I guess, I really just hate what I'm turning into. Once again, I'm looking to my best friend, Music. I can always rely on that to help me explain.

"As the war between light and darkness continues,

Heroes and villains become harder to identify.

Kindred spirits separated at birth,

Fighting for their place in time to be solidified.

The clock ticks faster and faster,

While time runs a marathon in this Babylon.

But see, the end is only the beginning.

The beginning of the calm before the storm."

That's from a song by B.O.B and it's called "Bombs Away." That part is spoken by Morgan Freeman, and for good reason, his voice sounds like gold in vocal form. Anyways, my favorite part of that whole statement is "Heroes and villains become harder to identify." No, we don't live inside of a comic book, or a movie, but heroes and villains are real. It hard to tell who the good and bad guys are anymore. There are more villains than there are heroes, and that breaks my heart. Not just because they're the bad people, but because things happened to them that made them that way. I think I'm on the verge of becoming one of those people. I don't like it, or accept it, I don't want to hurt anybody, and that's what I'm doing simply by existing. I've said it before, I'll say it again, I would gladly give up my spot for somebody with a purpose.
  
I recently attended my ten year class reunion. Talk about a group of people with purpose. I was dreading it, I struggled with the thought of going, pretty much up until the day before. Now, I talk about bitter-sweetness all the time, I can't help it. It's an aspect of my life that I take very seriously. I love the feeling of being able to acknowledge the best and worst of both worlds. Going to this reunion was probably one of the more major bittersweet moments I've had in a long time. Just, not for the reasons most people would assume. See, I believe that we're apart of a very complicated generation. Things change all of the time, it's a part of life. In my opinion, our generation has dealt with a huge amount of changes. The older we all get, the more changes there are. This is part of why I thought going to this reunion wouldn't be a positive experience. I was scared, and I feel like I was most likely not the only one that was scared. I was an outcast growing up, I still am to this day. So, my preconception of the whole event, was that I'd be standing alone in a corner. 

I was wrong.

I'm wrong more often than not, I'll admit that, no problem. From the minute I walked through the door, everything was alright. As a person that deals with severe anxiety, I expected to freak out from the very beginning. I didn't, I was able to be social because people were being social with me, and there was alcohol around. I made the mistake of underestimating everybody, and I apologize for that. It was so beautiful seeing everybody, even the people that I didn't really interact with. I'm actually really proud to be able to say that I was part of a class full of people doing great things with their lives. Nobody had to pull a "Romy and Michelle" people are successful, hard working, and productive. That makes me happy, but it also proves my point. I listen to people talk about there careers, spouses and adventures. In the back of mind, all I can think about is the fact that I'm an utterly useless human being. I didn't deserve to be at that reunion. It's the same kind of feeling when I'm at birthday parties for kids. I'm not always the only person without any kids at those parties, but I might as well be. People often get confused when I tell them that I feel like I don't have a family. I get the confusion but I have a hard enough time understanding the situation myself. I won't dare try to paint a picture, the colors would run together. 

There's been so much in my life that I love. Beautiful people and beautiful things, that always make me smile. With beauty comes ugliness. Ugliness brings pain, and suffering. Pain brings demons that sit inside of your head and terrorize you. In my eyes, that's part of what makes a villain a villain.

I will not be a villain.

Bittersweet Little Gifts & The Desire To Leave This World

Being hugged by somebody who actually thinks you're worth something, is pure magic. Especially when you know that you're not worth anything. I have to admit, knowing that I'm an utterly useless human being is bittersweet. Bitter, because I seem to be in the way a lot. More often than not, I'm taking up space, or holding somebody back. I don't have the right to do that, especially not to people who have actual purpose. The sweet part is, when I'm not here anymore, it frees up a spot for somebody better. Somebody that is actually worth something. That makes me feel pretty elated. For the longest time now, I've felt that my existence is unfair. Not to me, but to other people. It's my belief that I was never supposed to be here. Some people disagree with that, but it's what I think, and it's how I feel. I get genuinely confused when I wake up in the morning, it just hurts my feelings now. Not all lives are a joke, I respect people's sense of resolve. I think my life is a joke though, and the punchline just never comes. When it does, I don't know if I'll laugh or cry, maybe I'll do both. Maybe my reaction will be painfully neutral. I have a few different horrifying reoccurring nightmares. Dreams as well, but more nightmares than dreams. Waking up every morning feels like one of those. I know what some people say.

"Life is a gift, and should be appreciated."

I don't entirely disagree with that, but I just don't believe that my life is a gift. I wish I did, but it just doesn't feel that way to me. I believe certain parts of my life are gifts. Like, fireworks. They turn me into goo. I remember, I used to think that after fireworks went off....they turned into the stars. I wish that I still believed that. Naivety saves my heart, I wish I was still naive to lot of things. Fireworks are tiny exploding miracles, and even though they don't turn into the stars, they're still a gift. On the other hand, my life as a whole is not. This world, where we all exist, is filling with Evil. Pure evil and poison.  There's starving people everywhere, but somebody's pissed off that my skin is the color a milk chocolate. People are getting away with disgusting things like, abuse, rape and murder. Yet, people are pissed off because a man wants to kiss another man, or a woman wants to marry another woman. There seems to be terrorists everywhere. What is it about humans that makes other humans want to terrorize them? I don't understand it, and I'm not really sure that I want to understand it. Hatred is fueling everybody now. It's like the majority of people in this world forgot how to love. Treating people nicely, and with respect has somehow become turned into something else. People make it seem like it's the wrong thing to do. That's super sad, it breaks my heart. Everybody is stressed, and taking it out on each other. People are so enthralled with social media that they forget about actual communication. It's all so frustrating, and being trapped within this chaos is only doing more damage to my very fragile existence. There's so much more about this world that breaks my heart, but I don't have to name every single little thing. I trust that some people see the same evil that I do. 

I honestly just wish that people could or would pay more attention to the good things. There are beaches covered with pink sand. There are beaches covered in black sand. Can you imagine how amazing it would be to see that? I know it would bring me so much peace. If I had the chance to lay on a beach with sand those colors, I could die with the biggest smile on my face. I would burn Fiesta Lime incense and play music by Tom Day. I could get lost in that forever. That's just me, I know that, but it's a picture I've painted inside of my mind. I wished more people did that, and if they do, I hope they share it with me. I'd like to know about pictures people paint in their minds. Even if that's just a far off dream, it's one of the good things I think about all the time. Even knowing that it will never happen, the thought is enough to make me smile for a few minutes on my worst day. I get so worried about people in my life. People that I know are worth so much, but are sad. I used to be able to make people happy. Being a good friend means so much to me, but I no longer have the ability to make people feel better. I can't make people happy anymore. My issues are in the way, my head is broken, my thoughts are dark and scary, and my spirit is dying. My spirit is sick, and suffering, and has been for the longest time. There's this song called "Little Black Cloud" by Crazy Town. That's the same band that had the one hit wonder, "Butterfly." The chorus was simple, bu the lyrics always appealed to me.

♫"I got a little black cloud that follows me, everywhere I go, it takes over me."♫

That song came out in 1999, and I still listen to it to this day. There are times when I feel like I have that cloud over me. Other times, I feel like I am that cloud. People always say things like "You're in control of your own happiness." Fine. If that's what your opinion is, than fine. Only, that isn't always true. People with mental health problems don't always have the option of being in control. We have demons, and they tell us how to feel, they tell us how to think. They control our actions, our words, and our thoughts. I don't think that people understand that those demons, they make their existence known every day. They don't just talk to us, they yell, they scream and they rampage. They're little monsters with more power than you'd think. So, no. I don't believe everybody has control over their happiness. Yes, you can cut people and certain  unhappiness from your own life, you can try your hardest to protect yourself. Only, the consequences always seem to be bad. If you cut a person from your life, you're a "bad friend." You're the "enemy", and "how dare you." I've been cut from many people's lives, but I understand why, and I don't blame people for it. But, not everybody does understand. It hurts to be cut out, it does. It's a hurtful part of life that some people just don't get over. To me, that's part of "being in control of your happiness" but it's so negative. It doesn't seem like it should be apart of happiness. Maybe that only makes sense to me. It might, because I struggle to put my words together most of the time. If only people knew how long it takes me to write just one entry for this blog. 

♫"Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money.

We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money.

Used to play pretend, give each other different names, we would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away.

Used to dream of outer space, but now they're laughing at our face saying "wake up, you need to make money", yeah."♫

I love Twenty-One Pilots. Their music brings me so much peace, the lyrics are perfect. They say it just how it is. One day, you wake up, and you need to make money. Only it's not that simple. I'm an artist, and that doesn't always promise money. So, you go and try to find a job to save money for things that you're passionate about. Only, you have a last name that intimidates people. You look a certain way, and it puts people off. So you spend years trying to get a "normal" job, yet nobody will give you a chance based on these petty little things. People say "You can't give up, just keep trying." That's not a bad thing, but some of us reach a certain point. You get to this point where, you cannot take anymore rejection. Hearing that you're not good enough gets old after a while. You start to believe it, and then trying just becomes pointless. The constant rejection gets painful. You might as well stand in front of a person and say "You suck, we don't want you, and you aren't good enough" over and over and over again. It's like being punched in the throat repeatedly. They don't understand what they're doing to you. They don't understand, and most of the time they don't care. People in this world who hold positions of power, usually abuse that power. Those of us who are never given a chance, because it's already decided that we will fail, that pretty much means that we're screwed. I'd rather go back and play pretend. 

♫Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young.

How come I'm never able to identify where it's coming from.

I'd make a candle out of it if I ever found it.♫

Those lyrics are from the same song. I should mention, the song is called "Stressed Out." Even the damn title is perfect! This song is everything to me. I know you know what they're talking about. You're minding your own business, a smell hits you, and suddenly you are six years old again. It makes you smile for a minute, but you cannot figure out what it is. It's another one of those bittersweet little moments. I count that as a gift in life. 

Even with all the little gifts like, music, amazing smells, and thought of brightly colored beaches, I'm just so tired. I want the little things to be enough, I do. They aren't, and at this point I feel like no matter what I do, it will end with me in tears, and the world once again be laughing at me. I don't feel like anybody wants me around. People can tell me until they're purple faced that they do. My monsters won't let me believe them. People do tell me I'm not wanted, and they make me feel unsafe. They know that I feel scared, I won't let the world know that they're bullies. I like people too fast, I love and care about people too fast. Too much. So much, that it makes me seem creepy and weird. That's what being friendly is these days. It makes you a weirdo. Being loving is considered a bad thing. Being sensitive and crying a lot makes you weak. That's what I see, and I just don't want to see it anymore. All I hear is hatred, and pain. Not just my own, but other people's and it hurts me. My head is a scary place to be, and there isn't anything I can do to fix it. Some people are beyond help, some people can't be helped. The world's solution to "fixing" people like me, is drugging you up, and strapping you down. To me, it's cruel and unusual. To strap a person down who just wants to escape in the first place. It seems like being kicked while you're down. I understand why it's done that way, but I don't like it. I just want to step aside, I wish I could give my life to somebody else. Somebody that would do something useful with the time. Like, seriously, take my life, do something better than I will ever be able to do. I have faith you. 

The next time you see somebody that you think is worth something, hug them as if their life depends on it. 

Honesty, not always the "best policy."

Honesty can be a huge mistake. Especially when you have issues. Any issues, not just issues like mine. Being honest pushes people so far away, it's a wonder they were ever close in the first place. Its even weird when you're reading it. I'll throw out an example. If somebody were to ask me, where I saw myself a few years from now, to my face. I'd say I didn't know. The real answer is sad and simple.

Gone.

That's the real answer. Now that it's out there, I promise that it's made at least one person decide to cut me from their life. It hurts, but that's pretty much how it works. It's starting to bother me less and less. I'm starting to get used to things like this. Being avoided, having things sugar coated and seeing people roll their eyes at me when they think that I'm not looking. That's why having a mask is so important to me. People have every right to feel how they feel about me. Making them feel guilty about it, isn't fair. I've recently been seeing people that I haven't in a long time. It's almost insane how fast the regret hits their tone, and behavior towards me. I have no regrets but, there's a weird lesson I guess. You might consider a person your friend, but that doesn't mean you are their friend. It's like a really awkward, hidden rule. Nobody talks about it, because it makes them feel bad. I wish I didn't see it that way, but I do. That's another reason honesty can be a mistake. Obviously, I have trust issues, and zero faith left in humanity. Somebody told me that, I have a clear perspective of the human race as a whole. If that is the case, I wish that I didn't. It's painful. The little monsters inside of my head, they are constantly reminding me that I'm not meant to be here anymore. I'd say I wished they would be quiet, but silence is deafening. 

♫ Sometimes quiet is violent

I find it hard to hide it

My pride is no longer inside

It's on my sleeve

My skin will scream

Reminding me of

Who I killed inside my dream.

- 21 Pilots

I love those lyrics so much, they speak loud to me, loud and clear. The lyrics that come from that band usually do. This song in particular makes more sense to me than it probably should. 

 ♫ I ponder of something terrifying,

'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind.

I find over the course of our human existence,

One thing consists of consistence.

And it's that we're all battling fear

Oh dear, 

I don't know if we know why we're here.

Oh my,

Too deep

Please stop thinking.

I liked it better when my car had sound.

- 21 Pilots

Silence is an emptiness that I'm terrified of. It's a weird sickness, but Music is the cure. I wish it was the cure for other issues me, and other people have. It's helps, don't get me wrong. I used to be able to find a song for any circumstance. Not a very useful skill, but it was a skill that I was proud of. I don't like seeing others suffer, it breaks my heart. Helping people, through music always just seemed like the loving thing to do. Aside from hugging them for as long as possible. I no longer make people feel better, I just make them uncomfortable. That's the last thing I want. I just don't belong here, I don't. I know the truth hurts, it kills happiness like cancer. 

It's not always the answer.

Where are my Crayons....

It's super crazy how certain things can escalate in life. Sometimes, changes happen so quickly that you don't notice until it's too late. I think that's a bittersweet aspect of life. People think that just because they grow up, and become adults, that they drop habits they had as kids. That's probably true for some people, but not everybody. I think what happens, is that sometimes little habits just slowly turn into other things.

When I was younger, I think around age ten or so, I used to melt crayons onto my arms. I thought it was just because I liked how the colors looked on my skin. The way it felt, I didn't necessarily hate it, but it made me feel better when I did that. Now, I started doing that again, recently. Just as a random artistic thing to do. Only, I was wrong about why I was doing it before. I realized that, me doing that when I was younger, was where my self harm issue probably started. I mean, it doesn't hurt a lot by any means, but the slight burn is enough when you're ten years old. It started with the crayon melting, and unfortunately, it's escalated into a few other things. It's just so crazy to me that it never really went away. Clearly, my brain is wired wrong, because there will never be a time in what's left of my life, where I won't be hurting myself. Clearly, I'm wired wrong, because I don't see society and people in the same way that most people do. I've never felt right, I've always felt wrong, like there's a lot wrong with me. I can't be fixed, I'm beyond any kind of help. Most people would find that upsetting, and it's understandable. Me, I don't find it upsetting. It's just a sad but true fact. I was never meant to be alive. 

Contrary to popular belief, I don't really try to encourage the feelings that I have. At least not towards other people that are in my position. That makes me a huge hypocrite, I know. Honestly, it just breaks my heart knowing that other people have to feel like this. It's a pain so evil, that it controls every aspect of your life. In my experience, society seeks weaker people out. People see our tears, our scars, and insecurities, and use them to take us out. Sounds like I'm being dramatic, only I'm not. I've just been on this low level for such a long time. I wanted to help other people with these problems, I wanted to teach people how to survive. Well, the truth is....I can't help anybody because it turns out I don't know how to survive. Since I can't be helped, I have no right to try and guide others. It wouldn't be fair at all. Me not being in people's lives seems fair, and it makes more sense. I think it's important to be able to forgive yourself for the years that mental illness took away from your life. I can't forgive myself for that. 

Being strong enough to survive in our society today is so important. Sure, things seem to be changing for the better. It appears that minds are opening and acceptance is spreading. That makes me smile, I love that the world is changing. But, it's still way too scary. One of most terrifying things in this world is that you never know what somebody's true intentions are. I'm finding out the hard way, over and over again that more often than not, people's intentions are bad. Being a nice, friendly person means that your clingy and creepy. Trying to help, means you're being invasive and nosy. Backing away and staying and avoiding drama, makes you insensitive and bitchy. Being an emotional person that wants to talk things out, means that you're a weak baby, that needs to suck things up. If you don't like to be laughed at, or insulted, you're taking things too seriously, and need to lighten up. There is no winning, it's a mess. None of that is worth the pain of having people hate you for being who you are. 

I think that I'm being tortured by my own mind. Society, along with humanity, test me day by day, and I'm failing. Tested by the world, tortured by my own mental illness. It's just not a way to live. I wish that I could say, going back to being ten years old would make it better. I wish melting crayons on myself was enough. The truth is, I've escalated. I'm too far gone, and there is clearly no coming back.

Socially Acceptable Disease

♫ Disease by: Hollywood Undead ♫

Society today is blows my mind, and breaks my heart at the same time. At least, in my eyes, it seems to be more than some people are able to handle. Some of the behavior that I see from people that's become socially acceptable in this time, makes me feel like breaking down and crying tears of pure sadness for the world that we live in. It effects me that much. I'm sure if I was a stronger person, it wouldn't hit me so hard, but strength isn't really part of who I am anymore. I honestly don't even know who I am anymore.

Strength is a very tricky thing. It's a little funny to me, because it seems like most people only see it as a physical thing. It's so much more than that though. Strength is part of a persons mentality as well. If you lack it, you're considered to be "too sensitive" and that kills me. It's true, we're all human beings, but each of us is different in our own way. Some of us aren't as strong as others appear to be. Some of us believe that it's easier to bleed our problems out, than to talk about them. Some of us aren't capable enough to live like others. Some of us see beauty in things that most people don't. Even if that beauty is in death. Even if that beauty lays within something that most people view as ugly, or too different for their taste. Everybody is entitled to their own opinion. Everybody is entitled to feel how they want to feel. Only, these days, through my eyes, most people are taking the negative side. Difference is "bad" and "normal" is good. Only, the "normal" part is what makes me want to go to sleep, and never wake up. It's socially acceptable to hate difference. Even things that are out of anybody's control. People aren't accepted to be themselves, they can't be themselves without being criticized or judged. That isn't something that I'm able to deal with easily, it makes me sad. It upsets me since I am one of those people, and because I know others that live with that. Every single day. I just think living in a world like this is such a waste. It has it's perks. Beautiful things to see, and amazing music to hear. It used to be enough to keep me safe, but not so much anymore. Nobody is safe anymore. 

I wouldn't raise kids in this world, I absolutely would not. Here's one reason why, and also  something that frustrates me like nothing else. 

"Having balls" supposedly means that you're tough, and the word "pussy"somehow equals weakness. Yet, a slight flick to a man's balls puts him on the ground in the fetal position. Whole human beings come out of vaginas, but having one somehow qualifies as being weak. Yay people and society! I say that with every ounce of sarcasm in my body. I'm sorry, I really am, but that is nonsense to me. Fighting it seems right, but it won't change. Yes, the world has evolved and progressed, but nothing can save some of us. I wake up everyday, wishing that I hadn't. I am in constant pain, physically and mentally. Not that most people would know, I have a mask on most of the time. I'm starting to understand how people in my life really feel about me, and how me being around effects people. Ultimately, I don't really think that I should be in anybody's life. That's not me insulting people and saying that nobody's good enough for me. I'm saying that I'm not good for anybody. I feel like the biggest piece of trash on the planet. It's painful, but probably not as painful as having to put up with me. I love my friends, the real ones and even not so real ones. After years of being naive to people's attitudes towards me, I'm finally starting to see how people really feel. It's not something that I can really deal with. Spending so much time inside of your own head, it does this sometimes. It kind of opens up little rivers inside of your head, only instead of water flowing around, it's everything negative that you're dealing with. It's people's hateful words, it's mistakes you've made, the what if questions. You question every decision you've ever made, and end up wanting to punish yourself for the bad decisions. At least that's what happens with me. Inside of my head is a scary place, and I am very thankful that nobody else has to be there but me. I give people so much credit to people who actually have the strength to survive life. Unfortunately, I'm just not one of those people.

West Coast Bound then Broken

West Coast Bound & Broken

Thoughts throughout my recent vacation to California. 

April 28, 2015, 1:10 AM -

♫ - "No Parallels" by: Hands Like Houses

The train literally just pulled out of the station, and I already feel less stressed out and crazy. I'm almost crying tears of pure joy at the thought of getting away. I'm a walking emotional ball of feelings in general, so I'll probably end up crying eventually. That doesn't matter, I'm going to a place that brings out genuine happiness from within me. I can remove the mask, and smile for real. There are some people in my life that would be blown away by the difference in my behavior when I'm away from Western New York. People don't believe me, but the West Coast makes everything better in my eyes. This is part of the reason why I believe that environment makes all the difference in the world. Not for everybody, but we're all different in our own way. Even when there's a person that's grown up and lived in the same area for most of their life, and moved.

Multiple times. 

At this point, I wouldn't care if I didn't get to stay west coast, the train ride is so peaceful for me, and I love it. I could go all the way there and get right back on the train and feel rejuvenated. I'm not stuck in a place that makes me feel broken, and I'm not up in a giant flying coffin thousands of feet in the air. I'm on a tiny vacation that moves, and I feel better than I have in a very long time. I can't wait to wake up, and be somewhere else. I would say somewhere new, but I've been on this adventure before. Either way, I hope I can wake up and smile. Like an actual, genuine smile, not the fake one I use on a daily basis to make others less uncomfortable. 

April 30th, 2015, 8:10 AM -

♫ - "The Edge of Tonight" by: All Time Low

It's a bittersweet thing that I am actually in LA right now. Bitter because plans fell apart during the ride here, plans that meant a lot to me. It's become clear that certain people in my life, on this coast, mean more to me than I mean to them. That's part of my life, and it defines my friendships with most people. I can't lie, it always and forever will hurt my feelings. However, it doesn't hurt any less when I figure that out about another friend. The sweet part is I'm here, and I'm looking at Palm trees. Getting off of the train was slightly discomforting. It was time, that's for sure, but I don't think I was entirely ready. Not because I wasn't ready to be here, but because I sincerely love being on the train. It makes me feel oddly free, it's almost euphoric. As for actually physically being on this coast, it's absolutely freaking perfect. I can breathe, I can think straight, I am home. I don't feel anxious, I don't feel shaky, or like I need a drink. I'm where I belong. It's temporary. Painfully temporary but, I won't think about that now. 

May 4th, 2015, 6:34 PM -

♫ - "Jesus Christ" by: Brand New

I feel sick. My trip is ending so much earlier than it was supposed to. I understand that's how it happens to be, there isn't anything I can do about it. However, I strongly dislike it. Every single one of my demons were out of my head this whole time. It feels like the further away from Western New York I went, more and more of those demons jumped out along the way. Now that I'm going back, city by city, they'll jump back. By the time I reach the dreaded final destination, the little monsters will be screaming. Filling my head with everything that makes me wish that I was never born. I'm genuinely sorry if that's "dramatic" sounding, or depressing. It's how I feel, but most people don't take others feelings into account. I'm not just talking about my feelings alone, I mean people's feelings in general. I see it more and more these days. More often than not, I see and  hear of people's feelings being disregarded, chewed up, and pushed away.

Forgotten.

Ripped apart.

Judged unfairly and criticized.

There are people that tell me the negative things that others say about me. The most popular has been that I'm  too depressing to be around. I've heard that a lot, and it's hard. I totally understand why that opinion of me that exists. The hardest part of that is that it's somewhat true. I suffer with depression, that means I'll be depressed at times. I suffer from severe anxiety, that means I'm anxious, both mentally and physically. I have post traumatic stress, that means so many different things. My health, mentally and physically continues to get worse. It seems my mask doesn't cover as much as I thought it did. It would be mostly wishful thinking if I thought I could make the mask bigger and stronger before I get back. 

May 10th, 2015, 5:12 AM - 

♫ - "Car Radio" by: twenty one pilots

I had a weird....episode in my sleep a couple nights ago. I say episode, because I'm not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare. It was so damn bittersweet, that it's mildly frustrating even now. 

I was sitting in an empty bathtub, fully clothed. One of those really deep tubs, and it was placed in he middle of a forest that was nothing but trees with pink flower petals. I was in love with what I was seeing, it was beautiful. I could hear wind, birds chirping, and the air even smelled sweet. Suddenly, I was being pulled backwards, under water, that wasn't there literally a second before. Somebody is holding my shoulders down. I didn't struggle, I didn't want to make the process any longer. I get this weird feeling of euphoria, and just as I think it's almost over, I'm pulled up. Only, the environment is different. Everything is just gray. A dark gray color. Like nothingness. Gray and quiet nothingness, for miles and beyond that. The silence was deafening, and I felt colorblind. I tried going under the water, but it was gone just as quick as it had appeared. The tub was empty again, and I was alone in the middle nothing. 

It could have meant a few different things. It might not have meant anything at all. My best guess is that it has a lot to do with me being back here again. Environment can effect us so much more than people believe. This place sucks the life right out of me. I'm happy that it doesn't happen to other people. Friends that like it here. Even people I'm not friends with, I wouldn't wish feeling this way on my worst enemy. 

Feeling alone, even when you're with people. 

Having a constant thought in the back of your mind telling you that you're better off dead, or never having been born. 

Feeling like your mere existence bothers every single person that you ever have contact with.  

The constant need to hurt yourself, for ether control, or punishment. 

The moment I stepped foot off of the train, it all came flooding back. I know it sounds impossible, but it was physically painful. It was like waking into a brick wall. In two weeks, I went from being an utterly useless human being, to feeling like my life had a purpose, and back again. I just wish that there was a way for me to feel like "West Coast Me" while I was here. I've tried, I have but it just doesn't work. Sometimes, life can be like going to be movies. All the good parts, were in the trailer. It's weird, today I am exactly twenty eight years, and five months old. I feel just as dead on the inside as I did when I turned twenty eight. Hopefully, someday, California will revive me again.