dirtycherrie

[dirtycherrie]

Even though you warned yourself to not aggravate or provoke or overshare with this person, you still do it fully knowing it will never get you anywhere. But when someone else tells you that defending yourself will only leave you open to the aggressor's abuse, it gets you nowhere, that's where it hits you. All this time, you were tied down to a perpetual cycle of peace, argument, frustration, guilt, and apology. You've repeated it continuously until you've realized it was never worth your time. It was a lie you've convinced yourself of until it dawned on you:

Nothing matters and no sorries or pleas for redemption can make up for the hurt you've endured. They never cared, at least, not in the way you wanted them to. Acceptance and giving up are now muddled and from now on, your only choice is let go.

[dirtycherrie]

I think there's a part of me that knows I'm disgusting. No matter how kind, sweet, or caring I am, I'm cruel and vindictive. I hurt people whether intentionally or unintentionally. Sometimes I try to disguise it as being a feminist or an activist. I have the right to hurt those who've hurt me. But I know that deep within me, the urge to hurt someone is so appealing that I no longer know how to withstand it. I am a grotesque caricature of the girl my parents raised. There's no one left to blame and no one to express this to. I am disgusting.

[dirtycherrie]

Headspace #2

Trying different and new things because you're never good at doing one specific thing

[dirtycherrie]

Headspace thoughts #1

Growing up as a devout christian, I frequently contemplated over what came after death. I would envision my father's silvery voice telling me, "death is followed by the judgment of one's life, and whether their soul goes to heaven or hell." This notion instilled such a gripping fear upon me I thought i'd never sleep properly again. I didn't want to die and find myself at the gates of heaven, quivering at the inevitable yet everlasting agony despite not doing anything wrong. I wanted my life to end, and for my soul to cease to exist. If my own life seems meaningless to me, why should my soul live on eternally. My thoughts became so excessive to the point where I questioned everything. The more I thought, the more fearful I became. I know the end times are coming, but I haven't began to experience life. I want to hold hands with someone I love, to taste the adventures of life, to travel to unfamiliar places, to scream at the top of lungs while driving down the highway, and potentially pursue my somewhat realistic dreams. I want to return to the days in which I was firmly hugged by my mother, drank hot chocolate, and stared up at the stars believing some form of life lived on one of those white specks. For some apparent reason, I can't let go of my own childhood and grow up.

I'm scared.

Maybe I'm overthinking or perhaps obsessing over the end of the world. Perhaps I  could be long dead before it happens. No one will ever truly know. I never speak of these fears to anyone because people will say, "live in the now," or "take it one day at a time." As if such words could calm my neverending worries. For now, all I can do is wait and enjoy the life I have now. Maybe as I get older these thoughts will quiet down, and my fear of death will end as well.

[dirtycherrie]

Maybe you, I and the fish only exist in the memory of a person who is long gone. Maybe no one really exists and it’s only raining outside.

天使のたまご | Angel’s Egg 1985, dir. Mamoru Oshii