Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Journal: Blind

Man, I've been so stupid and blind. So ready to make my action seem just and reasonable. To make myself the pure one, the victim, but in reality I am the one that inflicts pain on others, and the title of victim, isn't my right to hold.

My Name is Alex.

The Enticing silence Before The Storm

I am from
The grinding of metal
Tragedy’s arms
The lost of a childhood
The absents of a mother’s love
The cold blade plays lightly against my skin,
like the autumns old long forgotten winds
The enticing silence before the storm

I am from
The gentle gurgling creeks
that plays requiems of old ancient songs,
gritty and sad tunes of younger days.
Hidden trees of a kingdom of humming birds
with their metallic blue leaves.
The long forgotten rain,
that still lingers on
The enticing silence before the storm

I am from
The melancholy misuse of poetic words
through poems, songs
and unfinished novels of treacheries and tragedies.
The long standing grimace,
temporarily stained on faces.
The meticulous cleaning,
and over usage of bleach.
The enticing silence before the storm

I am from
The glorious love of a benevolent God,
and the last laughs of a family
that will soon be broken

The enticing silence,
before the storm

For basically all my life, it always felt like i was alone. This didn't really bother me, I've had grown use to it, and just took it as the way things were. Yes i did have friends, and yes my parent did love me very much. In all honesty, to say the least so far i have led a pretty bless life. Even when shadows seem to cover everything, there was always that speck of light that still lingered.

Still i felt like the one that had gone wrong. With my brilliant sister, and brother, the beloved and close to perfect one, I felt deformed and special. I was quite, due to a speech impediment and delayed motor skills development. Even today people come up and ask me what country I'm from, thinking my voice is strange due to an accent, and not a bad playing card in genes.It doesn't really bother me now, although sure enough i was harass a lot because of i when i was little, but life moves on, and time doesn't stop just because we do.

To put it short and simple, I am a depress 15 year old, who's lost her mom, and seen two of her friends killed themselves and the past what... 3 months. Not a very attractive beginning, i will admit that, but i was never really good at sugar coating stuff, or at least i didn't even bother to try to. Because honestly, i rather have the cruel, painful truth, then live in a life full of sweet little lies. Safe in my own plastic burble. When i was little, i use to think i was invincible, and untouchable, like a lot of kid my ages do, until reality gave me a cruel slap when me and my brother where eleven.I lost my mom, and now like everybody who goes through grief, I'm just trying to make sense of what left.

This is kind of going to be like a online journal but i guess instead of locking it in my bedroom I'm sending it into the unknown world. I figured maybe this is one way for me to get through all this to, laugh and smile more. Most of the things i write are depressing i think it would be interesting to see how things change. I'm on a journey of "Self Discovery" you know the normal cliche of a teenage. Come along if you want.

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