something on my head :/

I really tried to write something to empty the overwhelming emotions of tonight. But I can't. I really can't. It's hard to explain this feeling of uselessness, emptiness and the self-hate when seemingly you have everything. You feel even less compelled to talk because you feel you shouldn't say a word since others suffer more than you. it's not a competition, but you often tend to call your issues petty or meaningless in regard of your friends/family/even stranger's suffering. You feel like you're petty when you dare say what's wrong or that you're not okay. I'm not. I know what triggered this is "and I quote myself" very petty. but yes, to deeply love someone who (and I believe it) gets off by manipulating your feelings to stroke his ego is triggering. I might regret this statement tomorrow but I really feel like I'm being mocked and used and played with... while all I gave was genuine feelings that won't quit. It's petty, that I know and I despise myself for feeling so hurt tonight because of this. I'm not the only one to feel this way and I am struggling every day with it. some days, I really feel great and excited but it vanishes quickly. it's like.. nothing is meant to last or it's because you feel you don't deserve it. and it strangles you every day and you don't want to wake up.

but I have been raised by wonderful parents and taught to fight and keep going no matter what. I have been taught to find ways to express myself even when I'm not physically "talking".Roleplay does help, writing or drawing does help but when all is blocked.. (like art block or lack of time) how could I cope with it? Yet tonight, I cannot find a way. It's suffocating and tiresome. I will try to follow advice and focus on what's great about waking up and go to my internship while every step I make I wonder if I'll be able to solve issues and make sure my family is safe 'money-wise' once I'm done with this expensive education. that's the thing, I will and can't give up on anything but everyday feels more and more like a burden to me, like a never-ending hell with small bits of pleasant moments. maybe that's what life is about, maybe not for everyone but just for me.

I am working on my issues though, one at a time and while I did progress on some of them, I still cannot get over a couple of them...to the point I just want everything to end. How many times did I contemplate the knife while I was cooking or the meds while I was sitting on my laptop? I pray every day not to make that mistake because I can't bear the idea of causing so much pain to my family and friends but somedays, it does look like a great idea.. like a way to ease the pain. yeah.. but how sweet would life be for those around me, not to have me anymore? what will it change really?

I am not looking for pity or attention. I just truly need to spit those words and maybe sleep better at night. I am really sorry if sometimes I come off as rude or cold. I do care about you...I do try to move away from my issues to deal with the world, but tonight.. and maybe sometimes.. I simply want to quit... everything.. my body, my mind... everything and rest.

I am sorry if I come up as negative because it's not really what I am looking for. but when I realize that hundreds of unfinished stories deal with death and other macabre topics, that I keep on writing about sacrifice and suicide. I think it's just time to take a step back and admit I'm not doing really well. I'm doing my best not to act ugly and I'm not saying you shall forgive me when I do, but it could happen and I'm sorry for this.

tomorrow I might even forget I posted it. I just know I have to. I just need that little selfish moment where I can't scream out loud like I so badly want to but at least type what's in my soul. it's TMI but you don't even have to read.. you don't have to notice me. I just know this will be off my chest once I post it.

Thank you.

random thoughts 2

((just a random vomit of words, you can skip this one though)

Here I am,
as naked as I could ever be.
What do you see when you look at me?...
Is it beautiful? Is it strength?
Name it, name it, I will become it.
Fooling the eye and soothing your soul
You do not need to know. You do not need to know
I could become anything to help you heal, to help you breathe
There is no easier task than making you happy
What do you see when you look at me?
The silent tears? the silent screams?
You can't hear them, I don't want you to anyway
I don't want to be what you can't even see
Tell me, love, tell me again
What do you see? look again!
isn't it love? isn't it dedication? Isn't it comfort or absolution?
What? what? Don't make me think. Don't ask me questions.
For there's nothing to be said...nothing can explain
It's just me who's there, there for you, there for us
A blank face, an empty space yet so full of love
A friendly face, a loving embrace, here I am, here I am!
Ah....
yes ~

xxxx

He spent centuries trying to tame the beast inside of him for he was ashamed of it. He spent centuries ignoring who he really was and living a false life. Chained up to an idea he couldn't reach, he wasn't able t...o fully be himself. He wasn't able to live his life to the fullest. What was he, but a watcher of his own life, a puppet without a real purpose? He spent centuries trying to conceal the violence inside of him and behave as they wanted him to. He grew into someone who was frustrated with his life, who felt he couldn't be free or himself.

In the end, there was too much pent-up violence inside of him.
It turned him into a mindless beast. He gave into his basic instincts, into his craving for blood. He had to release the darkness inside so he did. His fists broke bones so many times that he lost the count. His hands ripped flesh and hearts, tore apart the skin, eviscerated his victims, all the while without feeling a thing. It was just an urge, something that devoured him from deep within like a monster. It was necessary to keep him sane. Violence, Blood, Death! oh... Nobody could save him. He couldn't even stop it.

Or so he thought.
At some point in his life, he met her.
She wasn't a saint, but she definitely was less of a sinner
And her light, her comforting light gave him hope.

She appeared out of nowhere in his life, and stayed there in his life, slowly eating her way out into his heart.He let her in, he craved for her. She was beautiful and gentle, she was fierce and sensual, she was understanding and caring. He realized that he needed her, more than she would ever know. Indeed, the more he was with her, the less he had nightmares, the less he felt those dark urges. She appeased his soul and helped him feel different. What was that? He didn't know. He couldn't know. All that was certain, was that he could not imagine his life without her in it. He was a man by her sides. Not the most honest, not the most romantic, not the kindest of them all but he was a man and not a beast. She eased his nightmares and she embraced his darkness. She was perfect to him but she didn't know it yet.

What was that?
Was it love?
He couldn't tell...Or so he thought

xxx

She took a time to stop and think,
Stop and stare, stop and blink!
So many things happened and yet she couldn't stop....
She could try but it would not feel right
She could try but she would feel the urge to do it again.

Do what?

Live.

She took the time to stop and think
She took the time to stop and live
Enough of being scared!
Enough of just waiting there.

Why? Why would she do that?

She wanted to live!
She wanted to be her own person.
She wanted to own her life and force her luck instead of waiting for it to never happen

how scary!
How thrilling!
It's your moment! so please TAKE IT

random thoughts

This it it. I call it my tragic face. I love to think that nobody would realize how bad they have hurt me if I make that face. See, it's all about intensity in the gaze. I try to convey as much emotion as I can in my eyes, letting them know how much I hate them for making me feel so helpless yet I stay regal. I chin up, my lips don't tremble. They are stiff in order to show them the disdain or the... distance I put between us.

But who am I really kidding? I try to convince everyone that my heart has not been shattered inside but I can't even convince myself that I am okay. Yet I still serve this face to anyone, because I am too proud to eventually let them know.. too blind to eventually notice, too weak to actually face it.

xxxx

..She thought it would be easy to pretend. Smiling and being polite was one thing, but none of the x-men bought her shenanigans. Asma was restless, emotionally tired and on top of all, she felt vulnerable. Too proud to speak of it out loud and scared to become a burden to her friends, she barely confessed her feelings to them. Tonight, they tried to trick her into talking to them but it turned into... a disaster. She wasn't able to say a word, she blamed herself for that but they didn't insist much. 

As usual, the idea would sink in, she knew they were there for her, they were her family. Why did she keep this habit of suffering on her own? Why couldn't she trust herself and why couldn't she give a chance to their bond? They loved her, they cared.

Once in her room, she ran her hand through her pink (yes pink) locks and tried to reason with her sick mind. Stop being so anxious, don't let it eat you up! They are here for you, take the chance! grab their friendly hand! tilting her head to the side, convinced that the best thing she could do was to actually talk to them, she pushed the door open and set herself free from her mental prison.

They were her friends, her family

xxx

...This isn’t me. This isn’t right. I can’t marry him now... It’s too early, I’m not ready

She ran away from the x-mansion, ran away from this wedding she felt was making her suffocate. Fear was overwhelming her, consuming her at this exact moment. Wasn’t a wedding what she wanted? Wasn’t marrying Steve her greatest “dream”? A dream? Listen to you speak as if you were one of these carefree human gir...ls. You dream bigger, bigger than yourself. You dream of a relative peace between humans and mutants, of a chance to live a normal life… but wasn’t all of it an illusion? She was scared, as simple as it sounded; she really was scared of the next chapter. Happiness was simply a grasp away from her but Asma couldn’t accept it. She didn’t know if she should. She softly rubbed her belly which would never bear any of his children. It was the price she had to pay to possess such a power. What if Steve wanted children? They never spoke of it. She didn’t know anymore. Don’t you deserve to be happy Asma? For once, accept you could also be happy! Asma knew it was about time, that the worst was behind them. They have been separated; they have hurt each other already. She died twice. What ELSE could have parted them away? What ELSE was she scared of? If it wasn’t for a gentle hand that squeezed her shoulder kindly, she would have melted away, drowned in her dark pool of thoughts and overwhelmed with anxiety. If it wasn’t for that friendly touch, she would have run away definitely. But that simple touch, the one from a loving hand helped her put herself together and banish away the paralyzing thoughts that tried to cripple her body with anguish and fear. Her head rested against the strong shoulders of her best friend, and she knew that she could breathe again. No more clouds in the sky, the perfect blue was blinding her with light.

What an idiot…I was born ready…I can do it. I will

Love is beautiful

(and after a good catch up, I'm out émoticône heart. I'll be talking about real bonds you make with people who actually REALLY know you. )

I believe in the bond between two people, 
I believe it is the strongest that could exist.
I believe it to be raw and violent at times
I believe it to be huge and above yourself as well.

It is something you can't really comprehend.

I believe in the love you feel for the other,
I believe it can make you sick and scared
I believe it can also make you strong, stronger than ever
I believe it is something that goes beyond yourself

It is indeed, something you can't really understand.

When it's free from malice and cheap tricks,
When it's really sincere and you feel comfortable,
When all you want is true to see the other fulfill the dreams
When it becomes impossible for you to live without the other

I believe it is absolutely beautiful

Loving someone, be it: your parent, your guardian, your sibling, that stranger overseas, the love of your life or your partner and your friend...
Yes, loving someone is not the easiest task to do.
It's an act of complete acceptance, of real surrender
You're both vulnerable and strong, and scared and happy
You're a MESS, a glorious mess and yet you can handle it.

You're beautiful,
that love is beautiful,

I believe in the strength of bonds between people.
you see my dear, when we chose each other and decided to walk together in this life,
I can see the beauty of it.
The beauty of us together.

I am so grateful for it.

I believe in it.

I believe in you!

I believe in us émoticône heart

The Jazz singer

He was a war dog. He didn't mean to become one but he ended up being more familiar with War and the battlefield than life. He never knew anything else than the cries for mercy, the tears, and the blood. The stench never left him and could he have boiled his skin to clean it up, the stench would always be there. He was nothing but violence and chaos. You couldn't blame the guy, it was all he ever knew in his life. An orphan at a young age, he was bred to become a war dog since he was able to walk. They turned him into a living weapon, a lethal threat and a tool they used to serve their schemes. He grew into someone who genuinely loved the battlefield. It was comforting because it felt like home. He was familiar with the sounds of broken bones, to the smell of blood and body fluids and to the pleas and cries.

On his days off, when he was allowed to have a week or two of rest, he usually spent them downtown. He was freshened up, well-dressed, to the point that he was almost handsome. His body was filled with scars he earned on the battlefield, his eyes were unusually grey and his once black hair was almost grey. His nose was slightly crooked and misplaced after having been broken so many times and he had a scar on his upper lip. He always went to the same bar, not because it was a fancy one but because he could listen to her. He would sit on a stool and order a cold beer, lose his gaze into his bottle until she appeared on stage. Then, he who almost was apathetic would remove his hat, politely, and look up to the stage. His heart would pound slightly harder against his ribcage and his eyes would grow wide as he was now focusing on her.

She was a simple jazz singer. She wasn't the prettiest or the most conventionally beautiful but she had something appealing to her. She would always wear a white dress because of the sweet contrast with her ebony skin. Her shoulders and neck would be exposed and the dress would tastefully wrap around her body and enhance her silhouette. Her black hair would be styled in a lovely bun and a pink flower would be slid on her left side. Her voice was like no other, deep and sensual and laced with a thick accent nobody could tell. She held the microphone while the diverse orchestra would play behind her and she would charm the audience and steal a couple of hearts. She was simple and sung simple songs about love and war, about sadness and depression, about joy and birth. She would be cheeky and sensual, set some hearts on fire and crush them with her heels. He was completely drawn to her.

He couldn't really tell why he felt the need to be close to her and could barely explain why after her performance he would offer her a drink, sit next to her and listen to her as she would rant about her days. It wasn't easy for her because, in spite of her talent, she was still not the huge star she was yearning to become. She could only perform in this club because it was the only one to accept people like her and because she could live above since it also was a hotel. She had no family and basically no real friends around and she wasn't happy. Why was she drawn to him? He barely talked to her. She could tell it was because the poor stranger was a man of action rather than a man of words but it was fine with her. He listened to her and faithfully attended one of her shows when he was in town. It became a habit, one she soon became addicted to and slowly but surely the Jazz singer started to sing TO him. He noticed but wasn't able to express himself. He didn't have to wait for too long though.

One day, after her show, the jazz singer grabbed his hand and took him upstairs to her room. He didn't resist, no! He was eager to actually be alone with her. Being only together would allow him to fully express his feelings for her. He relished in her scent, delicate and intoxicating just like her and as soon as the door was closed behind him, the Wardog dropped the mask. His hands grabbed her neck and waist as he pulled her into a passionate kiss, the first to many. He devoured her entire being, tore apart the delicate fabric of that white dress to expose her flawless skin to him. He tasted her, made her sing another song, the song of passion and love as he proceeded to become one with her. That night, when all hell broke loose, he discovered that they had more in common than he assumed at the beginning. They both were passionate and while he wanted to sink into what he thought was purity in her, she was searching for his darkness. The room was filled with her screams and his grunts until it was reduced to nothingness.

Everything changed after this moment of passion. The war dog had found someone to tame him and the jazz singer found a muse. Together they were creating something new, something beautiful. He found a new purpose in his life and even learned to smile whenever he was with her! Oh, they made such a lovely pair! He wanted to come back to her and live with her. He would put his skills to use, find a job, provide for her very needs and she would find a soul mate, someone with whom she would share the rest of her days. They were two broken souls that were mending each other or so they thought. War is a nasty beast. Once it's ugliness tainted your soul it became difficult to move on and he had been tainted for his whole life. He couldn't escape his fate and one day he woke up with his hands around her neck. He was strangling her! Horrified, the war dog decided to leave the Jazz singer and eaten alive by his guilt returned on the battlefield. Distraught when she learned her poor sweetheart die there, the Jazz singer started to mourn for him. It was said that her songs were so sad that it made her audience soul bleed, but none of them could truly understand how she was feeling.

She struggled for a year and even became famous (at last!) but it was bitter and sour to her and she couldn't enjoy a second of her fame. A letter someday finally reached her. It was the Wardog's last letter from the front. It said the following words.

« Love of my life. If you read those lines then I am probably dead already. I am sorry. I did the only thing I promised myself to never do. I hurt you. I couldn't live with that. I know you probably think I am selfish, but I realized that I couldn't have a normal life. I am a Wardog. I am meant to live and die on the battlefield. We couldn't fight against it, my pretty bird. Please, don't be upset. Do not cry for me. Save your tears for your wedding night and your first child. Love, if anything I could say is « Thank you. » because you made me happy. You taught me so much. How to love, how to care for someone, how to live. You taught me life and you did make me feel alive! I thank you for this. Pretty bird, remember the first day we met? I do. You were wearing this beautiful white dress and was singing « Tea for Two » and I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame because of your voice first. I didn't even see you at first, but I fell in love with your voice. It was sincere, it was honest, it was warm. You silenced my demons for a while, you almost made me feel human but I disappointed you and I disappointed me. I will keep your scent in my mind and I know I'll meet my end soon but for the first time in my life, I will go out there with a smile because you gave me something nobody ever had. You gave me life. I love you. »

Some said they heard a scream break the silence and others said they heard a lament so heartbreaking that the sky cried in support. The truth was...it broke the Jazz singer down for a while and she desperately tried to join him in death. If it wasn't for her friends and colleagues, she would have been dead already, but the jazz singer wasn't alone. One day, when her friend was cleaning her hotel room, the Jazz lady took the Wardog's letter and read it again, this time noticing a very small line she missed when she first read the letter. She could read « I beg you to keep going. Become the woman you always wanted to be. You are my future and will always be. » Words that stroke a chord inside of her. Since this very first day, she decided to make the best out of her life in memory of the love of her life she became the most prolific singer of her time and married an honest and humble man who gave her two children. She had a good life but a part of her was missing forever.

Sometimes she did sing about the war dog and about how unfair and yet beautiful life could be. They only spent a year together, but it lasted a lifetime to be true.

A lifetime.