Anyone

I'm so disappointed at myself. I haven't done anything right in ¿months? ¿years? I don't even wanna know. I told myself I would try, that I would keep up. I'm still a liar. I'm not keeping up, life's going too fast and I don't even know how to run. I feel trapped, tired. Fuck, I'm always tired, I don't think that's normal. I think I may be killing myself slowly and I don't really care. I need immediate comfort that I can't really find, not in food, not in bed, not in people, even though I try. I know it's not right, I know I should be writing in that notebook so in a couple months a psycho can read it and tell me how fucked up I am and how this mess is all my fault and how I'm making things up and not focusing in the positive. But I don't want to. I've been avoiding it for days. Is anyone ganna give me comfort, heal me? Doesn't seem like it so why bother? I can always go back to my old self, the one that was able t hide it, sure, it's more complicated now since it's worse but hey, if it's all in my head then why bother getting it out? Just cut my head when you get tired of it. I don't think I'm able to grow another one but who cares? I wasn't that interesting in the first place, you'll survive. Oh, I'm sorry, not really thinking 'bout y'all right now, I'm deep in the selfish pain, let me hang here for a while, I don't wanna go full crazy yet. Sometimes I think I'm making things up. And also there are times when I think I had a happy childhood - and I did - if you put aside the abuse, the daddy issues, the self-punishment, the early anxiety, the Fear... - but my brain took care of that, that's why I can't remember half of my life. It's not ideal, I have huge memory issues now, sometimes I can't even remember what I just said. Sometimes I wish my brain would give back my memory - I could use it, like for studying and real-life stuff like that. I don't think my memories are that bad, I think I have more of it processed now. And what they said about scars? Not true, I have most of mine gone now, you just gotta do it right. Oh, yeah, there's another issue, pain addiction, that's a funny one, still with me that one, but I try to keep it under control - and by that I mean replace pain with food even if it leads to body issues again, gotta have priorities, right? I should get going, I'm in a really dark place right now. I'm sorry. I couldn't confront my diary so I came here looking or relief. Not gonna lie, I feel guilty now. But hey, no worries, just another day. Sorry. See ya.

Estirando

Quería escribirte para hablarte de ti, pero la música ha cambiado y no sé cómo decirte todo lo que eres ni lo mucho que te he echado de menos o lo mucho que me dueles, de tantas formas. Así que no voy a escribirte, voy a destrozar los sellos y tachar el remitente para asegurarme de que esta carta no sea capaz de abandonar este cajón, justo como solía hacer hace años, cuando le escribía con lágrimas. O podría no escribirle tampoco, y en su lugar llenar otro cuaderno de arañazos y de tinta bañada en sangre porque llevo toda una vida aterrada y arrastrando medio árbol porque no puedo librarme, aunque tal vez no quiera, de mis sus malditas raíces. Y supongo que todo el mundo merece una segunda oportunidad, ¿cuántas debería darle? ¿cuántas debería darme? Y podría ir un poco más allá, probar un tipo más inusual de dolor y escribir desde un corazón roto y un cerebro destrozado, que no sé quién soy y que a veces me creo que no me quieres, que no me entiendes, que no valgo la pena y que soy la mochila de la que deseas deshacerte, ya lo he dicho, tengo el cerebro destrozado. Y es un poco triste, que después de dos semanas buscando el lado bueno y escribiendo sobre amor y tratando de hacer los deberes, llegue hoy la madrugada para asegurarme que quien no me abandona soy yo misma y que eso, esta noche y tantas otras, no es algo positivo. Pero al menos he conseguido arrancarme unas cuantas palabras, escribirme un poco a mi misma mientras me reviento los tímpanos solo para amortiguar el sonido de mis pensamientos. Tal vez otro día pueda volver a la ficción.

Words

It hurts. I can feel them pushing against the inside of my back, trying to get out, to break me. It's like having a snake inside me, moving up and down, looking for a way out, crashing my bones. I didn't think I had it in me, but maybe I do. It's not the same kind of pain. I've learnt to enjoy some kinds of pain, but this is new, it'll take some time to get used to it, or maybe I won't. I may be suffering, but that means I'm alive, it's nice to know.

I still can't hate u

Five years ago I would have run to you, it's fucked up. And yes, I still think about you some times, I think that will never change. But I won't run to you ever again. Not to you, not to him. Not ever again. I don't hate you, I still think hate is a very strong word, I don't use it with anyone. But I don't like you.

Estoy resfriada

No sé si padezco de insomnio o es que gasto todas mis fuerzas en mantenerme despierta a pesar de ansiar a diario el momento de dormirme. Puede que ya sea la fuerza de la costumbre, que me impide conciliar el sueño a horas normales. Por lo menos ahora mi mayor preocupación son mis dedos congelados, mi espalda destrozada y los años de cansancio que arrastro (he mandado el resto a un rincón de mi cerebro que no quiero explorar esta noche). Puede que hoy no descanse, que no sea capaz de respirar y  que me ahogue en sueños, pero al menos estos dolores son físicos y no un martillo mecánico en mi cabeza y por una vez me alegro, hoy reina el mal menor, y en mi caso, es mucho mejor de lo que imaginaba, aunque peor de lo que cabría esperar.

this might be a lie

Nobody cares. I walk between realities, trying to keep the balance, to hold the whole world, but I'm nor a god nor a hero. I'm just human, and most of the time I'm not even that. So I get it, people stop caring when I stop being human, they just want me to be human enough to be funny, to enjoy (with) me. I can't always be that person, I try, I need them to accept me so bad. Sometimes I'll do anything. But I'm a fake, I don't lie about that. I'm so fucking tired. It's hard to be that person right now. I just want to hide in my little cave, sleep, walk away, get lost, forget. I can't remember most of my life. That's kinda messed up. I don't find it surprising anymore. Why do you. I wish I didn't care about y'all that much, so I could really leave and not feel bad about it. I wish the day comes, when I finally disappear without anyone noticing, not even me. Sorry. 

IHNTKM

My head hurts. I just went outside looking crazy with my mind blurred. The cold felt good, the people and the lights didn't. It's getting harder again. I always say the same shit, I know, sorry.  I just wish I wasn't like this. If only I could be another person, in another place, with another mind.nI just keep evading writing it here, directly. But why? You would worry, well, that's for sure and it's normal, but it's been like this for more than eight years, you shouldn't worry more. And I'm taking care of myself, I'm seeing people, I have the situation almost under control.