I am craving to write, to hear the scratching of the fountain pen against the paper where my thoughts, feelings and stories leave me, only to be imprinted forever as a different memory to that of my own.
These memories I can choose to relive or forget, to read, or watch as the paper slowly curls and turns to ash in the fireplace warming my soul…
These are the times where my thoughts are my enemies.. They say keep your friends close.. but your enemies closer.. There is no way for this to happen further, my thoughts plague me, bringing me ever so close to the darkness; it’s black fingers tracing outlines on my every neuron, enticing me to it’s irresistible realm where light no longer enters.
This is the horror I must face.
I pick up my weapon as I begin to scrawl, the battle may have just begun, but the war will always wage..
I can not win, I can only fight it.
I’m numb. I sit here at my desk, writing in an attempt to clear my head, in preparation for the long journey ahead, sleep will not come easy….
They say life is predetermined… well it’s contested, some like to think otherwise..
I was once the same.
After all my troubles, lost loves, and heartbreaks, I no longer want to be responsible for the hardships that have crossed my path.
I want to be free of the guilt.
I approach my bed, my sanctuary, I want to sleep even earlier tonight, but sleep will not come easy…
The shadows that fill up the corners await for the sun to set, ready to plague my night, pushing sleep out of reach for fear of the unknown.
My eyes droop, yet my anxiety peaks I struggle for peace, for rest. Tossing and turning, restlessly, I am unable to fight the shadows which now linger above me, filling my room. Light is now the minority, slowly fading away, there is no hope for me now, there is no turning back.
I feebly try to think positively, try to pull my sheets closer around me; a mock shield for the deadly enemy.
My thoughts are penetrated, streams of blackness pour in, invading every ounce of conscious thought, my mind is no longer free, and the emotions that fall with it, suppressed, held against my will.
I have become nothing, but a raging inconsolable stranger to those whom I love, and love me, what’s left of them.
My eyes can no longer fight it, giving up by closing my eyelids, to let in what final madness can be established within the last place of hope.
No longer can I escape the reality that is my own, no longer can I look forward to dreaming; leaving behind my troubles and fears, no longer can I visit my hopes and aspirations, of which will one day could have been.
They will never be fulfilled, destiny has already chosen my fate, for now I relax, the now addictive darkness overriding my fears, pushing me further into my inescapable nightmares.
My new reality.
Darkness is my enemy.
Darkness is my friend.
As I write these words by moonlight, I cannot help but wonder, what will be the end of us.
Will we be ok?
There is no going back any more.
There is only deeper, further.
An owl hoots outside my window, reminding me of my childhood, spent watching late night horror movies, the owl a reminder of something nocturnal, the one with the ability to pierce the darkness.
Something in which I could not do, I could not escape this black abyss. I suppose you could say it was something of my own fault, something in which I had chosen, the yellow brick road was not for me, so another path was taken.
A path less travelled, yet so often recognised.
Its addictive, its repulsive, this darkness consumes me and my mind, yet i must rid myself of this affliction, this desire for more.
I will never fully recover, even if I choose to, it has taken my heart, and my soul.
This darkness will always consume my life.
The depression will never fade.