The town

The sunset of my dusty town was eternal; twisting the trees into an inanimate, ghost landscape. The blanket of darkness suffocated the silent, sombre sky and strangled the suburban streets. Nothing was left. The ash from survival hung around in the air choking anyone who dare enter, so eventually desertion fell over the town. The town was isolated; the town was cornered. Callous decay plagued the tenebrous town. Only the bare branches that terrorised the travellers were punctured into the barren earth remained to keep the town company. Sometimes they cried and tears fell formed as coloured leaves staining the ground; remorseful wind swept away the scars and left nothing as evidence for the conflict.

Desolation, isolation crying out for some occupation, holding out for some communication into dusk. But nothing happens. What ever comes will always find some other future in another conventional mother town and doesn’t bother to sneak a peak over their shoulder because they are scared of the dark. But darling, even day is tucked away by the night. The heavenly body of the horison seeks shelter beneath the mountains for fear of colliding with the source of all evil. Silence.

Silence. Howling wind brings with it the pack who settle in the midnight sky and illuminate the atmosphere with its bright, white glow. The darkness lives.

When, from beyond the curtained ceiling an auroral energy observes through the crack and with no monstrous thoughts affecting, ripped apart the shield of shadows. Turning the dark to blaze, exposure befell the soul of the town. This town was free? Walls collapsed. The trembling city fell to its knees. The dehydrated clouds began to weep and weep they began until the liquid washed away marks of destruction. The manacles that clamped the town had been ruptured and the merciless wounds were exposed to an ambience of serenity.

An abundance of colour erupted from the crack in the most radiant veridian green and neptune bluer than the circassian sea. The bleak town was flooded. Guardian colours painted the buildings and stained the roads; the blackout had perished. The forsaken town which was choked by darkness had been released of its hold. Colours burnished the town making it sing at the top of its lungs. The abandoned town heaved. It inhaled a hopeless breath and released hope from the tension. Sanctuary was restored; freedom air flew over like doves and with a hint of fairydust in their beaks, crystallised the supernatural crescent into a brilliantly lit medium of silver.

Gliding from within the damage in the mystical, ultramarine sky glittered with silver stars, on a stream of angelic holiness, floated down a petite being. Chocolate brown eyes smiled and rosy cheeks -as if drawn on with felt tip- glimmered, fully intensified with the healing light that had invaded the town. It smiled a gleaming smile without saying anything and skipped off the silver-lined cloud that had transported it down. Jaunting through the streets, it halted at the entrance to the deepest part of the soul: the forest.

Clapping its hands and twirling around and around, rainbows of light emerged from within the spirit of the presence and burst out into the lifeless jungle. The dyes lit up the cynical woods and contaminated every last ghostly tree; originating from the fingers within the soil and finishing at the hair on top. The magical colours sprinted to heal and restore the natural order. Fuchsia, amethyst, scarlet, aquamarine lept up and smeared itself onto the carcass making sure not to leave a trace. No darkness remained.

The being emerged victorious a gleaming grin crept upon its wonderful face. Not looking back, running through the town, the next destination was a grim cottage hut minute enough to house the being. Cautiously, the wooden door was opened and the delightful fairy pranced into the chestnut haven and never departed.

The spirit of the fairy was enough to break the confinement of tremendous wrath. Destroy almost all the chains of darkness. Deep within the depths in the northern-eastern element of the town, within a white, snowy mountain lay a crystal device that was beating. The frosty covering suspended majestically over the organ of humanity, protecting it from harm. Little did it know: the heart was melting; the heart was screaming; the heart was drowning. There rested, huddled up, my empty ice heart bruised and stitched from the wounds that carved it. There lay the source to the blackness. The black screen which ridiculed this mysterious town was caused by the polluted heart tucked away into a snowflake bed. Examining deeper on the heart, engraved upon it was a four-lettered word.

The name of the fairy.

 

The scythe

Drifting. Drifting through life with a scythe in my hand, no one but me can see. The people walk into the scythe in my hand and straight back out alive. The scythe it remains right by my side while the whole world seems to hide away terrified. Crashing. Crashing through life with a scythe in my hand playing with the game of life. The scythe it cuts thee like cupid’s dark arrow impaling the heart.

Tripping. Tripping through life with a scythe above my head, closer and closer, yet further and further away. It stalks me, it taunts me right above my head following my footsteps fumbling away at what is to be done. Crumbling. Crumbling through life with a scythe above my head looking up at the clouds and six feet under the ground. Laughing at my every move, it inches closer when it has the chance. Its midnight eyes are watching me.

Tumbling. Tumbling through life with a scythe around my neck with promises of salvation engraved on the handle. They may be blind to it, but their conscious reeks with realisation. They drag, they wrench, they heave the scythe from around my neck, but it won’t go. It’s permanant. Leave the scythe around my neck for only I can detach its hold. Limping. Limping through life with a scythe around my neck visible for the whole world to see. It remains there staring impatiently at the clock ticking away to our dusty deaths. Gone.

 

~Strikedbyepicness

Your empty ice heart

Emptiness? No thoughts coming to mind? No thoughts at all? I don’t feel, I don’t sympathise. Immunity to the killings and deceit because maybe we’re just used to it.

Friendship brings people together. Of all the lies force fed to us, this is one of the worst. What if you’re the black sheep of the group? Worrying about what you say in case something slips and exposure. Lurking around in the shadows of their smiles; false face must hide what the false heart doth know. Dancing along to the rhythm of their laughter, like a puppet on strings. Slowly, you are fading and they are winning. Slowly, they are taking over and everything else is dead. The world goes lights out.

They want to help you. They have to help you. They need to help you. To them you are a danger; lock you up with the lions until you make a deal with the devils. This may sound controversial to you if I call them devils because they rid you of your demons, yet not at all. To the side you are pushed and shoved and shunned and stunned, giving other people priorities. They are the devils of your mind and the seeds of anarchy start to rage. What are other people doing? Other people are killing themselves, they need, they need, sort them out! Your head is drifting and so are they, but not in the same way.

Scars no longer penetrate the skin, tears no longer penetrate the face and the dark is no longer taking prisoners. Lock you up till the day awakes and makes you sane. You are gone. To the world you are alive and well, but the darkness could not resemble your ice heart more.

A year ago

One year ago I was completely lost with nowhere to hide. I had no way to let my creative side run free and let it do what it feels like. One year ago I had no idea that signing up to this free website has led me to where I am today. I have met so many people and read so many posts that I can relate to. One year ago I was a completely different person than I am today.

I didn’t know what I wanted, I had no way to let all my thoughts out. But now I know, I want to write. I want people to read and lose themselves in my words. For people to relate to what I’m saying, comment and help my writing to improve and go on to do wonderful things. If you told me 2 years ago that I would have my own blog with so many people reading and liking, I would’ve probably slapped you and told you to wake up and stop dreaming.

The purpose of this post is to just stop and just appreciate how far you’ve come. You may have a long way to go, but you’re on your way, and some day you will reach your destination or the state you want to achieve. Just put yourself out there. No one ever attained anything just sat at home, decide what you want and take steps towards it. You only have one life, every day you waste will not come back. Make it count.

This is a happy one year anniversary to my blog, the 3rd of October, and I have loved every single minute. My writing have evolved so much and I’m so excited for what the future holds. Thank you all for following, reading, commenting and liking, you’ve made writing a pleasure. Here’s to many many hopeful years.

I’m still on my journey to happiness, won’t you come along with me?

Wadz x

One day.

She hurried down the dark alleys, one after the other passing her by. She wanted to get away, she needed to get away. Her mind scrambled with thoughts; the people, the places, the memories she left behind. Why did she care anyway? I mean that was the reason she left, wasn’t it? She had enough of all the lies, the deceit. All the being told what to do. But most of all, she had enough of the trickery that her own mind had forged. She wasn’t running away from people, no, she was running away from herself.

The shadows crept upon her, reaching out and brushing her shoulder. She shivered from the touch and wiped the liquid that had started to form on her forehead. Cautiously, she turned to see if anything had been following her; she had gone when her parents had left her by herself at home. Home. The warmth of the thought was enough to fill her whole body with heat. Her safe haven. She would go there whenever things got too much, whenever people thought they could control her, whenever her demons thought they could control her, and whenever they did.

The thoughts filled her head once again, these ones however, were like the extinguisher to her fire. She tried hard to repress the thoughts that had build up inside of her, hoping and praying that she would be in time before they could surround her. She reached an infinite jungle, pushing past the trees that were enclosing her. The clearing, the clearing, the clearing; she had to reach there, she had to get there to cure herself from the evils of her mind.

She sat, just on the edge with her feet touching the top of the water. A small, sharp object was taken out of her bag, and she held it in her hand for a moment, letting the cold stain her. She closed her eyes and dismissed all of her emotions. The skin on her arm was ripped open, blood pouring out and flooding all around her, as if it were a pool, and she was drowning. Once more the blade greeted her skin, more ruby fluid cascading out of her leaving smears on the freshly cut grass. She reached forward slowly and dipped her arm in the aquamarine river that sat before her. She flinched at the sea’s embrace and left her bruised limb there for a minute before lifting it out.

This was home. This is where she could run to, and everything would be alright. She laid back and gazed up at the blanket of darkness that had spread across the sky. Clearing her head, she closed her eyes and thought of a day where everything would be better and she would be better. “One day” she thought. One day.

Holding back

What’s the one thing holding you back from doing whatever it is you want to do? Do you want to travel the world and experience different cultures and foods. (Who can not love food?) Do you want to show the world who you are and make yourself known to everyone? Do you want to take care of people or animals? Do you want to run your own business or restaurant? So why can’t you go out there and do it? Why can’t you make your dreams a reality?

You know why? Because the only thing holding you back is yourself. Sometimes we become so afraid of doing what we want to do for once, that we never end up doing it. We care to much about what other people think of us and don’t listen to ourselves.

Our heart’s telling us to believe and stay strong and one day, one day we will be away from this all. But our mind is telling us, constantly reminding us that we will never be away from this torture of reality. If we believe, if we truly believe, then one day everything will turn out how you wished it would. To get there, the only thing we need to change is ourselves, and the rest will fall into place.

Wadz x

Love?

Some many never experience, others will have. Some don’t believe that such a thing will fall upon them, others it comes when they least expected. What’s so special about it? Why does everything and everyone somehow lead us back to it? Every piece of art, every song that is every written, is about this, and when you say that you don’t believe in it, all eyes are upon you. The joke’s on you. So, what’s so special about it? How does this one simple act of loving someone, change people?

Why is this the only thing that we are allowed to talk about? Why is this the only act that is accepted? If anyone talks about other topics, topics which are rarely talked about, they are shunned and overlooked. Almost as if their opinions have been deleted because they do not follow the norm of the people.

Love turns people into monsters, they can’t see anything beyond that. They can’t see the things that are real. They are trapped in a cage of their own mind which is stopping them from seeing what is really out there. What is really out there? Out there is the truth, and what you’re living right now is nothing but a beautiful lie.

Watch how it all comes crashing onto you in the end. Watch how everyone before you will walk away, but you are too blind to see. Open your eyes and see the world. See the world how it truly is, not through those loving eyes of yours.

Wadz x

What is wrong with me?

What is wrong with me?

Today, I accidentally came across a video while on a binge-watch and it was someone talking about their depression and how they overcame it. I don’t what happened, but while watching, tears just started flowing from my eyes and down my face. For the first time in ages I gave my mind the chance to think and all it came out with was tears. Everything circled my head, so much so that it became deafening. I was not able to breath properly or move. All I did was sit, think and cry. The person, she was talking about how she fell into depression in the first place, and then how she began to overcome the things that her mind was telling her. She was able to reach a state of happiness where she would say that everything is going to okay. She was in Unicorn Island.

Watching this, my mind went to a completely different realm within my thoughts. It went berserk thinking of everything bad that I had done and everyone I had left behind. Questions began to appear, leaving me questioning all of my choices and my very existence as well. So here I was sat home alone and this video made me rethink my whole purpose and my whole life so far. You probably think that 15 years isn’t that long, but when every day feels like it’s going in slow-motion, then it seems like forever.

But the truth is, I want to be able to get to Unicorn Island too. I want to be happy with myself, I want to be happy with where I am and what I’m doing. But the one thing that’s holding me back is myself. I feel like I don’t deserve happiness. No, I’m scared of being happy. I’m scared that I won’t be the same person that I am. No matter how much I hate being myself, I would never want to be a completely different person. I’m scared of the outside world and what lies beyond the walls of my own home. I’m scared of what the future holds for me and if I will ever get to be the person that I’ve always wanted to be. I’m scared of the things I feel and I’m scared of my thoughts. I’m scared of thinking, I’m scared of the things in my head. I’m scared of myself.

I feel so lonely, like I’m the odd one out and everyone is staring. Everyone is looking at me like I’m an alien, and the people who I get close to see the real me and leave. I’m so very grateful for all the people that I have and I treasure everyone that stays by me. But even when I have all the people in the world, why do I feel so lonely, so empty inside? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe I’ve been pretending for so long that I’m okay, that when it all hits me at once I break down. Maybe I’ve stopped getting used to it. All the screams sound louder, all the thoughts seem to deafen me, more than before.

I can’t accept that maybe I shouldn’t be made to feel this way. I’ve lost all motivation, I no longer aspire to do good. I don’t know what I want to do, but I know for one thing that it’s not going to get any better. I feel like I’m on a downward spiral to my end. But I’m also scared of what is going to happen to me. I have a little bit of life in my dead soul that does nothing but worry about what is going to happen. The rest of me just doesn’t care and instead of fighting back, I’m lying there letting everything get to me. And nothing is doing anything against that.

The reason I wrote this post was for myself, because I was in a bad state physically and mentally and had no other way to turn. That is one of the reason I started to write as well because when I write, I seem like I’m free to create anything that I want to create. I can create a magical land far away and take people there with just my words. I can venture through the depths of the ocean or the furthest point on a map just by imagining. Writing helps me a lot, to just rant about everything and even if people judge me, I won’t see that. All I see is this screen with words on, I don’t see the people on the other end.

I don’t not want to be happy my whole life. I want to be able to live life to the fullest and be able to be proud of everything I have done. I want to adventure, I want to be free. I want to do so many things, but I’m holding myself back. I want to end everything because I don’t feel like I can do it anymore. I don’t feel like I’m doing anyone proud, and I don’t feel like I’m achieving any sort of purpose. I want to be happy, I want to change the world, but I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of myself.

Paracetamol

I wander through these lonely streets, the rain pouring down, the rain washing away any hope left in my cold, dead heart. I am reminded of the people I left behind. They don’t care, and who does? They never did, and who will? They lied and left me, lying on the ground, crying, screaming out “help me, help me”, but no one could hear. The screams were silent while everyone thought I was fine. The memories they broke me down, each flashback cracked my bones until I could not walk anymore. The drained feeling I’m left with, nothing but regret haunts me. And no matter what I do, no amount of paracetamol can cure the pain I feel.

The laughter playing back in my head, but slow it down a bit, it sounds too happy. The screams, ah that’s more like it, deafen me but no one else can hear. It’s all inside this mind of mine, this torturing mind of mine, that has no purpose, no meaning, nothing. All it gives me is fear and pain and it doesn’t stop. STOP. I yell as I grip onto the sides of my head, hoping, praying that they would leave me alone. This headache, this migraine brings me to my knees. I hold on with all I have left, all this pain, hurt, disappointment. But no matter what I do, no amount of paracetamol can cure the pain I feel.

They say that people make your day, but what if all people do is ruin you in everything they say. They hide behind their words to disguise them, and when you’re not looking they explode, unleashing the very thing that was meant to be caged. They destroy with all their might, their pride standing as a barrier blocking out their morals. They pretend, they torture and until you find the ones who will stay around forever, they will never leave. But where are the ones who promised to stay, promised to stay around and be with you through it all, thick and thin. You left. I can’t blame them, I mean who would stay around for me?

Who said parents were of any help at all? They say that we never hear enough of your time at school and how you were getting along, where were you for me to tell you? Where were you? Where were you when I was punched, kicked, called names, slapped and told I was not worth it? Where were you when I believed them so much that I had convinced myself that I really did not deserve any happiness? Where were you when I cried myself to sleep because I didn’t want to stay around in this evil world for much longer? Where the hell were you when I relied on a stranger to keep me holding onto this life and then went on to became my only hope to carry on living? But you tell me to stay away from people who are bad and are a negative influence. Do you know them like I know them? Forget other people, do you know your own child who is really nothing more than an outsider? You know the worst thing about it, I asked you for help and you refused.

The memories of when you were here crush me, like an avalanche of remembrance all coming at once. They remind me of what we had now that it is gone. The only good that was present, saving me from all the lies and deceit that I’m being fed, has drifted, leaving me with no home, nothing. But the good thing, I will not regret anything I do, now that I have no one. In the world that forced me to be something that I’m not, I said no and stayed true to myself. What wrong did I do? What sin did I commit? I wish I was anywhere but here. Because now I’m left on this lonely earth by my lonely self and no matter what I do no amount of paracetamol can cure the pain I feel.

Wadz x

People

People lie, people cheat, people steal. People pretend to be something that they are not. Why? To protect themselves. They hide themselves from the outside world, scared of what they’ll think of them, scared of being judged. Scared that people will not accept them for who they are. They walk around by themselves, they sit alone, out of choice. You approach them, trying to be nice, trying to be a good person. They accept your friendship, they take your hand, with a grin on their face and a look in their eyes that could not be deciphered, of course it couldn’t be, you didn’t suspect anything.

People change. People promise you countless things. They promised that one day we will be free and away from reality. They said that we will be together forever, I promise. They said that one day when the world is finally on our side, me and you, we will own this town. We will show the world how to rule and we will leave everything, absolutely everything behind. They got so carried away, there’s no surprise you believed them.

People break your trust. They promised to never forget you and be friends, friends until the end, but where are they now? Why haven’t they spoke to you in a week, now two weeks and oh, a month. They stopped talking completely, they punish you in so many ways, why? Because you deserve it. Because the person you put all of your trust in was not the right person. But now, look where we are, oh that’s right, here we are in the future, trying to warn our past self. Trying to uncover the truth to them, trying to save them. But there’s no use, they can’t hear. They are too deaf to hear us over the sound of their trust. False hopes have been planted, and the seeds of deceit have been drawn. All there’s left now is to wait, wait for the bullet to hit.

People crush you. But no ordinary tools are used for that, oh no, they use you to crush yourself. You become angry with yourself, blaming everything on you. When in the corner, laughing at how much it is affecting you, is them. The cruel monster that they are, are sniggering in the corner, finding joy in your unhappiness. They brought you to the top, just so that when the time is right, you will trip over your own two feet.

People leave you. They leave you in the dark, the taunting, haunting dark. The dark that scares even your nightmares. They don’t care about the one, two, three slits on your wrists, I mean who would? They don’t care about the four, five, six tears that fall down your face, they never did. Where are they now? You don’t see them, but I do. I see them very clearly, at your side, but not your right side, I see them at your devil’s side.

People forget. People forget that you were ever on this lonely earth. They forget that at one point you were so close, closer than a mother is to her child. They forget that they left you in an alley, with no help, no friendship, no light to guide you. They forget when they saw the scars on your wrists and the tear stains down your cheek. They forget when they turned and walked the other way, turning a blind eye to what they had just witnessed. They forget when they heard your screams from round the corner, and looked to see you lying cold, dead, breathless on the floor. They forget when they saw the sirens from afar to take you away, and they fled, they ran to the end of the earth, trying to get the picture out of their head.

People escape. People walk away from you resting on the ground. They think that their lies and scams had finally pulled off. But what they don’t know, what they don’t see is that you are now at peace. You are away from the place that gave you nothing but sadness and tears. You are away from the people who gave you false hopes, false dreams, and false guidance. You are happy, above them all, watching over the people who destroyed the mortal you with lies, tricks and betrayal. You are content, watching them run away, fleeing from the people who wish to disclose them. They are tired, afraid, hopeless, just like you were.

Wadz x