“Sometimes even to live is an act of courage.”
― Lucius Annaeus Seneca
There it is, above this text for all to see. Yes, I wrote a suicide note.
It happened last weekend. I was at home, alone, sitting in silence with my mind and body at war with one and other.
My mind telling me to do some grotesque things to myself, while my body, imagined the pain that would occur if I was to succeed in going through with it.
From slitting my wrists. Overdosing on whatever pills I found in the cupboard. Maybe doing both. Perhaps I…
“Be sure to spend time with your parents while you can, because one day when you look up from your busy life, they won’t be there anymore.” — Anonymous
My dad is 63 this year. I know it isn’t old. It isn’t young, either. He still has many years ahead of him. Yet, it terrifies me. Time terrifies me. I look in the mirror, and I see the effects of time. I look at my mother. I look at my father. I look at my brothers, sisters, and niece. They are all ageing and it… terrifies me.
It. Is. Everywhere.
After all this time, I have succumbed to the depths of such manic worlds. For I wander around a limitless void of continuous terms that are meaningless, because they are nothing but shadows that influence our lives. Shadows that pursue our movements.
We drag our feet in quicksand and sweets -- we fatten our bodies whilst we sink in glooms -- despair awaiting our fallen bodies. We malfunction when our leaders tire. No words to grasp on to such aspirations, leading us to decapitations and thoughtless thoughts that clench discrimination.
We climb rocks that form socks that hold feet that…
Our minds are stationed in their positions while the world is shaken-- the gritty skies deceive our minds into a false sense of security-- pictures are painted by the dust that flies.
It is us that choose to wander in such cold-icy nights that spark our breaths into life — we see the shapes they make in the atmosphere as we exhale our despair into our own ever-changing glares.
We stroll the brick, mortar and pestle-covered deserts that stick to our teeth -- they lead to our souls and cover our insides with moles, while molesting our minds into thinking about blue skies.
Come with me inside the human eye and see the world with pearly pearls and rose-tinted glasses, we cherish your presence with a large dose of presents. All we ask for is to give us your…
Author’s Note: I began writing this series during a big bout of depression. Time passed. It occurred to me that I may be on to something. To this day, I continue to write them.
I hope you enjoy the madness!
I know I do!
Do our tormented minds seek peace in a world which is bleak and foggy like a wasted wonderland that has become a living hell for all? A blue-sky world caresses our eyes and minds with soft strokes — the voice behind the stroke says: “it’s okay.”
We continue to prevail in a world of deception and…
"I’m 5, plucking honeysuckles off of the backyard bush, squeezing the tiniest drops of what tastes like sweet nectar into my mouth. I pluck another one as there are plenty, hundreds more budding in the spring time.
I’m 6, singing with my sister, recording ourselves on an ancient silver cassette tape recorder, playing drumbeats on upside-down Tupperware containers. We giggle with pride listening back to our music on the cassette.
I’m 7, riding my bike for hours up and down the neighborhood roads, feeling the cool breeze against my face.
I’m 8, dancing in my favorite, faded pink costume dress…
I appreciate the effort gone into this. This must have been difficult -- not only to write, but to share, too. Thanks for letting us into your soul.
Being diagnosed with ASD almost 9 years ago gave me the keys to feel less frustrated with myself. Yet, I still get frustrated and continue to beat myself up. I need to stop it. Thank you for sharing this with me. Your story speaks volumes about how far you have come. I hope presently you're doing well.
It still bothers me that I can’t do something that millions of people do every day. Even if I managed not to get caught up in my own head, my sometimes impulsive behavior would guaran…
Such a beautiful piece. I'm not going to burn you like other comments. I simply want to say that I respect you in writing such a vulnerable piece such as this. You're brave to put this out there. Well done to you.
Incredible story! I am so happy that I read this. Thank you for sharing this. Your grandmother sounds like a tremendous character who would light up, not only a room, but a whole city. Sending my love to you and your family!