Tetsuo_Shima

"Stupid". By me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- I feel so impatient when you're around, in body or of mind. A loss of words strikes my lips heavily, and it leaves me blind. What is it about you that weakens me so? That paradoxical mind frame I've come to know... I don't hate you but I'm not sure I like you, back and forth like an ocean, I just can't find an even flow. For years and years we fight and befriend, slowly, but surely, I thought I'd found a trend. Withdrawn unto my shell to find a place to mend, After all: you wound me, intrigue me but I feel I must defend. Often you seem so arrogant, but I wonder if it were a front, to hide a weakened self in you, Do excuse me if I seem too blunt. I only mean to sympathize, my words not meant to chastise, but often mistaken I wish you'd realize, I'm not what the world sees. Alas it's something I'll take with me to the grave, my ashes you'd cast upon a crimson breeze. You make me feel so worthless, stupid and alone. The face you stare upon me with is solid like a stone. A pedestal your on, I can't reach you upon that mighty throne. I feel so little in your presence, insignificant to the very last, you and I both know it's everything to do with what happened in the past. I hate this meager existence, and I cry for something more, but by now I fear my plight to you is just too much a bore. I'll just sit here feeling stupid, pondering the stars, what my place upon them is, and will I ever get far? By now my words may have upset you, as they often do, I guess that's just my way of reacting, because I'm confused by everything you do. I never was good at understanding, such a thing I should be able too, So I'll walk away in silence, pretend to myself I know what I'm saying though I know this not to be true. Devastating every time, I'm sorry but I just can't seem to hate you. I Guess. That just makes me. Stupid.

Yeah...I guess I somewhat agree. Still I wish those people would just piss off and leave me the hell alone.

HA HA yeah I tend to hang out with the more eccentric types myself. I know I'll be okay and this struggle is far from over but still....sigh. I just wish people would get a grip. Why does the fact that I am trying to right these wrongs mean nothing to them they only see the action and not what toll its consequence brings.

Well I'm proud of myself. I've gotten over my fathers neglect and abuse upon me, I've broken the addiction to lolicon. I've been free of it completely for almost 8 months now. I've graduated High school finally. I've turned my life around and I am proud of myself. But all of these great feelings come crashing down with just one mean spirited judgmental comment. I hate how cruel some people can be when they are to ignorant to even attempt to understand. Not all of us that have wrogned people are evil. Some of us do have hearts. They can bleed too. I just want acceptance.

Well several moments actually spanning my life and I'm in therapy. The problem I find is that I have a lot of people that pop up and like to tell me how much they hate me for the ways I've acted out as a result. I've lost many friends because of this. there is a thread on here I wrote about it a good while back. I'm curious what others may think of the above short story.

I'm not familiar with the term PTSD? Please explain?

Thanks. Well I basically wrote this as therapy...I wrote out exactly what went through my mind during the anxiety attack. They last about 10 minutes...sometimes longer. Therapy has helped me with this though. They don't happen as often but I've always looked to art forms to quell inner turmoil.

Ah ... thanks. I kind of left the room's whereabouts unknown to sort of add to the mystery. But then again... it is a true story. About 30 minutes ago actually.... and the past would take far more time then I have to write in a short story... that would be a novel haha. maybe I should write one.

Anxiety A shiver strikes my arms and chest as my body fills with an unearthly chill. My gaze darting, jerking, frantic. No focus. There can be none as my mind dance from one thought to the next. Huddled in the corner I was, as the only light in the room slowly creeps accross the floor shining from the window. It too was frosty in the fall evening air. The mist of my breath escaping my body as I try to hold on to any grasp of warmth I may have left. The temperature drops slowly as the light reaches my feet, I can see the darkness creeping closer, almost hear it. See it's crocked grin and it's panting breath in the shallows of the room, creaking the boards bellow beneath its deathly feet, see the boards succumb to it's weight and yet make not a sound. "It's all in your head" I tell myself as I scrunch in to the tightest ball I can. "Why is it so cold?" I ask myself aloud as I can feel that familiar tingle beneath my skin. As if my organs were being microwaved and my outer skin were being dipped in the deathly cold of liquid nitrogen. The itching that never stops no matter how much you scratch...scratching so hard you draw blood but can't stop. Terrified and yet of what? I don't even know. The room as all,everything and what is, it all fades to black as I close my eyes to shut out this frightening world. Shivering now, uncontrollably I cannot bring myself to stand as they stare. Those voices that laugh. I must be insane right? Of course there is no one there. It's all in your head silly. But I don't know that. I hear them and yet I don't. I see them yet they are not there. Do I? I know they are not there and I continue my mantra "It's not real, calm down! 1..2..3...inhale....3..2..1. exhale" repeatedly trying to gain my wits. I know it will soon be over. Like a nightmare. But I'm awake and I shall not revive from that wishful slumber to realize all is well. Instead I sit and stare as the thoughts of my past echo endlessly in my head. What horror they bring. MY stomach churns and I feel as if ill. I remember them laughing. "NO! I swear it isn't true!" I scream to myself yet the laughter breeds louder in the silence. The ever deafening silence that I hate so much. I grasp my head and bury it betwixt my knees hoping this madness will fade and yet I know the truth. It will not. Until death do I part for I am married to this hell that I have brought upon myself. Guilty? Not guilty? In the end it matters not what I plead as my sentence has been judged. Alone I sit. In this fragile corner awaiting that which I may be damned. For this is my punishment. Deserving or not. This is my anxiety

I also posted this on my journal but i thought a good poem so I'll put it here. The mirror by Mark Parkell ----------- kill me with your apathy and spite me just for agony like selling souls to the devils left to bid. tempting are those shiny things we all see on such hallowed screens and laugh away, just laugh away as we sit. And watch the clouds float by. it's been such a long long time my friend, now enemies till the bitter end. Look dimly in the light, hear a calling, hear the plight A reflection calls out, calling me in you A sound as such is crisper, be it only just a whisper that the mirror yes the mirror yet be not so cruel. Will you find it there? hide your face from it's glare guilty conscience be damned for you to go? Then hold on ever deeply to the nothing that you know, find the strength inside you, slay the hand that sheathe you, yes defeats you, he that never let you grow. That beast inside often say he"no". Forget his words and may you forever know The mirror's not so cruel when you unsheathe the sword in heartfelt tow. May you find your power, your strength , and find your spirits glow. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I wrote this poem a while back. To try and remind myself not to fight who I see in the mirror, but to shape what I see into something better. It kind of brings me hope to have found the piece of paper I jotted it down on 5 years ago. When I have nothing left...its neat to find my past speaking to my future. I think something good can be learned from that. Admittedly... I feel sad.

indeed, the rock stil sits on my desk.

No problem

Thats very true.

Thank you I'm glad I brought a smile to all your faces, and I agree working wih small children is a wonderful job idea. sure it could get hard at sometimes but hey, where else can you be among true happiness? Children are our future and sometimes they can know things we as adults tend to forget.

He don't thank me thank the girl. But a smile is the gift that keeps on giving. I just figured this was the best place to tell this story, cuz around here theres a lot of sad things that happen so something like this is needed most here. But yes your indeed welcome.