All i Ever Want To Do iS Worship . . .

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

how are what?

"still can't die", "not dead yet"

it is ironic, it was after the first time i typed those words so pronouncedly that i had the ideation of the process of death. and boy was it exhilarating.

please, you do not want to read the thoughts of my mind, not this night, not any night actually, but seriously, this is something you shouldn't read, so just move your cursor to the x at the top and move on with your life, without me, as it has already and all the while been.

i have never felt such joy, confusion, pain, excitement and fear chronologically so close together that it felt almost simultaneous in retrospect. when the charm rings, the eyes read a word, there was a moment of consideration, a moment to reply, and then the next thing i felt was a racing of the heart (it was funny cause i was rather glad that i didn't have any panic attacks yet, but this felt strangely like one) and the joy of just taking a few steps forward, the excitement of walking right into traffic, and then it would be just a blank.

i looked up and actually really visualised myself walking there, while my heart raced, my legs numbed. then fear set in. i could really have done that, i could really have just walked forward, and felt no remorse, felt no shame, and felt a pain that wouldn't be one that is greater than what it already is.

they said that even breathing was painful, just opening your eyes would hurt. oh, no, it wasn't that bad for me yet.

but then there was something that triggered in my mind, something that told me you cannot move just sit here and move not, as if my body and mind were separated, of two entities, of two beings. and then the palms started getting wet, the heart's thumb changed rhythm, fast, yet it was more so fear, it was hard as well, and i sat there, waiting for the bus, waiting for time to pass.

i knew that i was capable of murder, but i didn't know that i was capable of such a kind of murder.

they said that you would have a list of things, you would plan before you killed yourself, they said (yes studies have shown) that it is usually a process, like grieving, like everything. but this was pure irrational compulsion, this was a matter of seconds where i didn't think, i didn't know why, i didn't really believe myself either.

but i knew that if i had done just that, it would have been a release, and yet at the same time, it was such a disaster. its like you are really horny, and then you know that you need to go visit a prostitute or rape a girl or something, but you know that if you did that it would be pure disaster? it was somewhat like that, cause then there would be a guy who would have to live with the guilt of killing me, and it would also ruin his/her life, s/he might face punishment, imprisonment, loss of license and whatnot. and for me, i know, it was just wrong.

i walked home, still having my heart race, still allowing the emotions to overflow. i wanted to tie myself to the bed or something, to make sure that i'm safe from myself. safe.

i'm sorry if i'm not here, i'm not really depressed, its not been more than 14 continuous days, there have been windows. i don't cry myself to sleep, actually, i refuse to cry, even when i watch something emotional, i don't think it will ever stop, so i can't start. i eat well, i had steak for dinner. i don't binge shop (maniac).

but if i hadn't studied psych, there's a possibility that i would have just accredited this whole time to a pent up creativity release, where its been stifled and locked away, and i need to release it while with some emotions, and its something thats characteristically me.

so maybe i'm just that, allowing my mind to go wild, allowing my imagination to take control for a while, giving free reign to thought and compulsion.

i've documented my experience, and i'll continue to document my emotions and bio-reactions for the next two weeks, so if i see any irregularities, or any patterns, i know what to do.

i'll be fine, i'm sure,

i think so.

MarkSae, Da-jie Bid Goodbye at 11:58 PM

i.S. t.h.i.S. t.h.e. e.n.d. o.R. t.h.e. S.t.a.R.t.