Even the darkest and most evil of beings feel suffering and torment. Through his own experience he knew the dangers of happiness and joy as a result of emotion. Abusing himself through words and images he carved his pain across the pages…
I’m at war with my emotions. Thoughts and feelings invoke a number of visions that simultaneously haunt me, torment me, revealing themselves to me as something that will benefit me through happiness and fulfillment. I avoid them. Try to. Believe them not to be part of my natural behaviour. That I’m better off without them. Through the means of neglect and higher status I believe myself to be beyond such pitiful and sad degrading humane traits.
But the further I go to stay clear of them, the stronger they become in trying to pull me back in. Questions brought to myself that I’m afraid to give an answer to. Don’t know how to answer. Can’t answer. So I tell myself, Do you? How do you? Would you? All unfinished questions which I can’t bare to answer. Each and everyone beginning and ending with her.
I’m falling asleep in the shadows of something enthralling. I’m without control.
I never wanted this. I thought I was strong enough. Cravings and aches. Physical at first. Now it’s something else. And both grow stronger. Every single day. But one has pulled ahead. The one I never wanted. It’s like a hunger. A need. An itch. Everyday is a struggle. A fight I’m continuously losing. And it sends me into an uncontrollable rage. I feel it under my skin. Crawling, scratching, biting at me trying its best to surface.
Like a virus it attacks my mind and my body, failing to resist. The urge is too strong. Mind, body – that’s all I thought I would ever want from her. And now, now I want more. To be more. Not for myself. For her. This isn’t me. I’m the bad one. More isn’t something I do. I’m not good. My selfishness is under attack and is being replaced by selflessness. This is bad. And for the first time, it frightens the hell out of me.
My wickedness, my wretchedness, my cruel intentions are for my self-preservation. And now they’ve failed. And for the first time, I feel something beating deep within my chest. It brings me fright to a great extent, where I would bury such ruin beneath a grave full of torments I struggle. I want to rip it from me. It sustains these feelings. Feelings I didn’t ask for. It’s destroying me. Determined to rebuild me. Trying to shed the darkness from my soul in the hopes that warmth may withdraw my pain. Allow water to flow from these eyes that I may feel something pure for another. For her.
This war. This struggle. It overwhelms me. Even in sleep, I have nowhere to escape. Torment is where I exist, if that’s the state most appropriate to this cruelty.
Eternally suffering his words would never end. Eternal through the pages. Eternal for her. Sleep still fails him. He’s without sanity…
Original Copyright © 2018 by KalifornicationX.