I will try not to burden you.
I can hold these inside. I will hold my breath
until all these shivers subside,
just look in my eyes.
-R.E.M.
4.8.2000
In a way I cannot ever think it would be okay. Not even after death. I cannot imagine it being okay. That's why I probably still am alive.
Alive, though. Am I alive? Or am I merely breathing? Is that the same thing?
In my foolish attempt to feel something I've done things that would make me hurt too much. I've done it once and I've sworn I'll never do it again. I curl up in a little ball and tighten all of my muscles to such extent that I can never relax enough to fall asleep.
I grind my teeth in my sleep, and I'll continue doing it while awake. I clutch my muscles and try to hold on to my knees. Trying to hold myself still. Trying not to cry, not to feel, not to hurt, not to be alive.
Maybe I should remind myself that you don't really care, that I don't really care, that it doesn't even matter if you care or not.
The loud thumping sounds... echoed in steamy bathroom. It's amazing how I could see, how I could feel how my skull would crush. All the living, breathing cells would crush and die, the grey brainmatter would spread all over the tiled walls. To mix beige with white, sharp pieces of bone and bright red blood. Think of strawberries and vanilla ice-cream.
Each loud thump... surely I'll wake up soon? Surely I'll realize that all this is just a bad dream. The one that goes on and on and on... Why doesn't it ever stop?