Bini-x's blog

We're living in avoidance, Delusions of what we want but don't need. Who we thought we wanted and needed to be, False pretenses. Just shadows of what was once expected of us. From something more than fitting into a cliche. The tears of our hearts, their slowslowslow decay. Evolving into harsh, cold, beats. Left in the place of love is nothing more than, lieslieslies. Humans are revolting creatures. I wish I could differ, I cannot speak, I cannot change. I am incapable, I have not earnt the right to live. Goodbye.

Cold Crimson Blood, Red Through And Through, The Covers Drip With Your Blood. Your Heart Splatters Inside, Horror Struck. You're Eyes Stunned By The Bright Light. That Is The Path You Chose. This Is Now Your Only Option. You Gave Up, You Gave In. You Bought This. She's Dead Now!

Your Screamed Out In Terror, Each Cry Astounded My Body. I Shuddered And Hid. I Lie There At The Bottom. Horrified. Even Terrified. That Face I Once Knew. The Image That Dissolved Behind The Present. I Knew Nothing Would Ever Represent The Same Importance It Once Did. I Wanted Nothing More Than To Scream. Till The End Of Time. I'd Sit And Wait. I'd Have To Get Happiness Some Day. I Deserved That Much. Did I Not? So I Cried All Night Long, Awaited Mercy. I Died, A Week Later. So Long.

Sometimes you just get the feeling that you're giving up your whole world for someone and they're just giving up whats most convenient to give up. Not the things that take up the real time you need. So you've been and gone, spoilt and spoiling relations with people, believing you're always wrong. Then you hit stone, and it comes down, you gain cohere and whats this you've been doing? You were just naive and self sacrificing. What did anyone ever give you? They laughed in your face when you just wanted a warm smile and worst of all; they took advantage and took every piece of your heart, used it and disposed it off, just because they had nothing to give from their own.

It's when you're holding onto the very edge by the tips of your fingers. Gazing down, wishing it wasn't necessary. However inevitable it may be, I don't wanna be there when it happens. You could call it dissembling but you'd want to do the same if it was quite this close to you. The only way to forget is to start again, even then; it still may not be possible to forget. But if it were, least I wouldn't have to stare it in the face, daily. They're all looking at me, whispering about me, I can even hear their teeth grind, I can visualise them, I'd known them for a long time now, they, they're sniggering. It makes my stomache turn, it's me, me they're laughing at. It very much was me, and pretty worth ending it all over. They don't want to know of me or it. It's my label, my new 'WHO AM I?' This is the closest to hell I've ever been. If this is how its supposed to be, why's it all broken, its not the end yet. Its only beginning, apparently, but this is making me feel like its already ended. Finished. Less than before, what we learned here will just be bitter when its gone. All the good slips away, to you, the shame; it's temporary, but so are we. What we've lost here, you can't get back and you'll never get the chance again with these people. They've got their one sided ideas and opinions, and they won't change. Afterall, it's just the way they're wired. We could never truly realise, and it should never have gotten this bad, or this hard. There was no-one to tell us before, but now, fuck! They're all behind us with the pitch forks also known as words. Pretty much the evolution of sharp objects, risk it not. It's cheap, doesn't cost a penny, in its own sense, it does however indirectly take a bite out of many of our lives. Get over it. They're right, but it's harder than simply saying it. Its simple, in theory. Look straight ahead, because you don't care, care what they say, or think or what stationary they'll disfigure, or that they'll try to trip you up as you're making your escape to clear your brain, with a walk maybe, and how about they have nothing to do, so they'll indirectly accompany you, oh, how friendly? Really. What you got shouted at? What makes you feel so bad about that? It happens you everyone now and then. My day was just today. So you hammer your head, don't smash it open. You're too young to die. It's not death, its just being knocked out unconscience, forgettable, easy. Scrape the skin about your fist, break the building about and watch as the life you chose batters you, how convienient! They won't get bored till it has all been endured. And you'll have to be the one there. It isn't that being forgiven is worth it, but for sure, it's the worst feeling, to have tried to get rid of the guilt but instead having to deal with the swarms. On top of all the punishment, confession is suicide yet suicide is confesstion. It sucked the life and sleep out of me, all this. It's a one sided story for you and them, though, you're lucky it wasn't you, so sucked in. Liquid lies dripping through your shirt, and you won't forget, you won't. The scars will last, and you'll never forget, and you'll never completely wash your sins away. And it will never truly be forgotten, it will always come back, at some point. The skin about my bones, they'll; remind me and bring it all back, painful as ever. The tears slowly dragging you down, its quick, not the recovery. No. It made me, but I don't need to be. I need to dissemble and forget, or simply not exist.

Your vindictive passions are aroused and a humiliated fury will break out of the heartache.