moodyncold-blog

[moodyncold-blog]

for a whie i thougt you were the one.

for a while i thought you were the most

perfect boy

i’ve ever met. 

and yet, 

here i am, the realisation that it’s over hits me far too hard.

because you were a little fucker in the end. 

you acted like a child would, threw my feelings aside 

tore my heartstrings apart like old converse laces

pulled the soles from whatever carried me on

for a while. 

i know it’s over, i sort of hate you, but at the same time

i fucking miss you. 

i do i do, i miss that old you, i miss the you i knew during the winter.

the boy who’d be present when we talked, as if we’d known each other for years.

the boy who got pizza with us (you and i)

the boy who opened up to us (you and i)

the boy who walked me back (you and i)

the boy who brought me back (you and i).

and now it’s over, and that boy is far gone. 

the onyl thing left is what remains in my head, and this bullshit rain pouring from the sky of my eyes. a sky that once shone bright for you. 

fuck you. 

[moodyncold-blog]

it’s so quiet inside my head all of a sudden 

i forgot what this was like

to an extent where i didn’t even know this could be possible, it’s glorious.

just so quiet, no anxieties,

[moodyncold-blog]

One of the great perks of having a mental disorder is having to listen to other people, who clearly don’t understand or experienced this shit, try to relate to you and try to give you advice that ‘really changed their lives!’. 

Oh you’re saying I should go to Church and put my trust in God and ignore the stupid compulsions you religiously instilled in me since I was a child will help? Woah, why haven’t i ever thought of that before? 

Oh you’re saying I should just control myself when the panic starts and hold myself together by telling myself, no, stop, this isn’t what you should be doing right now. Wow! What a bloody well though-out breakthrough, what fucking insight you have on this shit! Yes, I can absolutely stop myself form feeling this thing, because I apparently choose to forget how to breathe, and I choose to irrationally think that I am about to die in the middle of class, or on the street or at dinner with friends. Yes that’s exactly it, thank you so much, I can’t thank you enough. 

Oh you’re saying you’ve also had these compulsions when you were younger? Oh how funny! What a funny story about that time you really had to organise all your pens and papers one way that one fucking time during your exams in unviersity. What a charming story! I have one of my own, the other day I couldn’t fall asleep until I completed the full fucking choreography my brain set out for me for thirty fucking minutes in threes, and sixes, and nines because something on the Internet scared me that was part of the list of obsessions I’m scared of. That happens at least once a day. But your story is cute too! Tell me more!

You don’t fucking understand, you don’t fucking try to understand, you don’t fucking want to understand or hear me out. You’re fucking projecting on me your feelings of fear. You glamorise mental disorders because you think it makes people smarter, gives them some sort of edge, allows them to get more attention. For some reason you want to be a part of this too. I can’t tell you enough, I can’t formulate the correct sentence to explain how, how fucking stupid your cretaceaous, imbecile, illogical, fucking mango-nut excuse for a brain is. What I’d fucking give to stop these thoughts and to be fucking normal and be able to do my fucking homework without a mental block or my mind telling me stupid shit or thinking of the same thing over and over. 

Literally, you need to get a grip on yourself and step outside of your self-built ego-house and learn to see other people for who they are as a whole, you insecure piece of shit nitwit. 

[moodyncold-blog]

when i was 17 i still thought i’d go to art school and be able to do what i want. when i was 17 i still thought no one could stop this burning passion that was all mine. when i was 17 i thought art would always be with me, never turn into the corpse i drag around. 

and here i am three years down, beginning it to stay alive, to wait a few more years, i won’t forget about you, ever, ever. i promise. 

[moodyncold-blog]

i’m not going to kill myself over this because i know everything will be ok, 

i’m not going to kill myself because i know, surprisingly, that there are people in my life who truly really love and appreciate me and who’d be sad if i were gone. 

i’m not going to kill myself over this because there is so much music out there and books and culture i have yet to explore. 

i’m not going to kill myself over this because it’s not worth it, your hideousness towards me is not worth taking my own life, in some aspects it would be like letting you win. but i refuse to let you have this one. 

i’m not going to kill myself over this because i just gotta wait a few more years, a few more years and i won’t have to think about this, about you, about these people anymore and i can truly, really, actually, be happy.