Inner ramblings

Rage from no where, attached to nothing..floating freely from deep within me and ready in an instant to spew forth in what seems like instaneous-effortless bursts of unbridled entitlement to give me a sense of power admist the feelings of helplessness that are my every waking moment. 1

If I am helpless then you are too powerful. No, I must be powerful, so I will take it to make you helpless. I don't do helpless. I am power. We can't both have the power. I want what is mine, you are mine right? I am not yours though, I cannot be anybody's because I am not even my own. 2

Fear strikes me from all corners of my being. What is it that I am not seeing? Is not what I perceive to be what is really real? Why is it that I am the only one who sees what I see, just the way that I see it? What does this mean? 3

I am not afraid. I am not scared or weak or vulnerable. I need you...NO....I am strong and I don't need anyone. If you let me need you, then I won't want you anymore. And if you say I can't have you then I've got to have you. If you let me have you then I don't want you anymore. I want you when you don't want me, and I need you when you won't help me. This is the pain in the cold distance that I know is somehow familiar and is the feeling that I need to give me the illusion of safety. If I were truly safe I'd be exposed, and by being exposed, I wouldn't be safe at all. Get away but do it by coming closer. I am exposed most when I hide, and remain hidden when trying to be who I think I am.4

Feeling alone once again. Abandoned as always. I am everyone and everyone is me. Who am I again? Oh yeah, that person , and this person, and what? Where does that leave me? Who am I? 5

It is not acceptance, it is rejecting me.....but I need it.....so what am I to do? I don't know what to do so I put it beside me. Whatever IT is, I leave it there to sit, and it builds. It builds and it always hurts. It hurts even when I don't feel it at all. I need to get what I need. I'll die if I don't, I'll just die. I am dying to live and in my attempts to live, I die. 6

And so I have remianed trapped inside this isolated, and insulated place of stunted emotional growth. I hurt and I hurt and I hurt. Why don't you care? Why don't you make it go away? Make it stop, just love me from over there. Love me, but don't you dare really care. It would hurt too much if you were to care. I wouldn't understand who you were caring for or about because I don't know who I am. I hate who I am and what I am. I hate whoever the hell I might be, can be, and sometimes am. So close, yet so far away from whoever I am. Who are you trying to care about? What does that mean, that you want to care about me/ It would mean that I needed you to care. I don't need you to care but I am dying for you to care. But still, care from over there, and don't act like I need you.7

Rescue me, but by leaving me alone. Leave me alone, but rescue me. I need you to recue me. There is such a sharp feel to the pain of numbness. Feeling the absence of myself like this. Where do the feelings go? Where does all of that pain hide? I dissociate from all that hurts. Help me while you leave me alone. Leave me alone, but help me now. 8

I need to control because I feel so helplessly out of control, but you can't know that. You can't know that okay? You don't know that about me, because I don't know that about myself. I odn't know you because you don't know me. You can't know me either, no, I wouldn't let you in to a place that I have yet to gain access to. No, me first. 9

Who am I? I thought I know just a minute ago.Then suddenly nothing felt familiar anymore. Nothing felt okay: nothing felt safe anymore. Why does this happen and what does it mean? What do you mean you don't know? You are supposed to know. I expect you to know. And if I expect it then I have a right to demand it from you. Don't go asking me for anything, NO, it depends on how I feel, and what I believe in at any given moment.....you just never can know cause I never know what I'll do or say or feel. Every moment changes and shifts from one to the next. What is real, what is truth? What I feel from minute to minute changes, so I really just don't know. Really, I just don't care to know. Don't bother me about it. Leave me alone, but just stay here. And be quiet while you talk to me. Talk to me silently. Words can hurt. Don't be too quiet in your silence thought, because silence can kill a soul. I know, it killed mine over and over again. Dead, time and time again, risen hopes, only to fall and to die, unanswered, arms outstretched, never reached for, never grasped. Arms, that had to hold themselves, suspended in mid air, left alone, ignored. Arm that will take another 23 years to ever dare to reach out again. So hold me, and rock me -- rock me to stillness -- gently okay? Just don't touch me, you know?10

Truth, you want truth? Whose truth? Yours or mine? I know things seem fleeting. What is real and important one minute is fragile and/or gone and/or misunderstood/misperceived and mis-interpreted by me the next minute. I don't know why. You were here a minute ago and it mattered. But then you left. While you were gone for 2 minutes and 23 seconds I forgot that you mattered to me and now I find it incredibly impossible to believe that you could love me and leave me just like that for 2 minutes and 23 seconds. I know things seem fleeting. Things keep changing. I can't hold anymore that I already am, whether I am holding anything or not. 11

You live in the "big picture". Life, so I'm told, unfolds in some "big picture" of reality. I live in millions of little pictures. Millions of pieces of reality. Snap shots fromt he whole, fragmented seconds of minutes that seem to encompass hours. No, this does not make sense to me. Part of this picture line up with part of that picture..what am I supposed to see? What can I know from these mixd up jigsaw puzzle messages? I get part of it. I don't understand the rest.12

First I kinda made sense, but now I don't, so I get angry and frustrated. In one part of the picture I care, but in another I don't. One minute I want you close, from a distance, and the next minute I want you distantly close. This is what is going on inside of me. I don't want to hurt you like I do, I just don't know how to make sense of all these jumble fucked messages and fragmented pictures that bombard my mind constantly with images and thoughts that do not fit together, not now, not ever, well hardly ever. If memories are pictures of the way things were {or the way things are?} then my memories, like screams, echo to a voided abyss in a canyon. Imagine all of that sound overlapping itself. Could you hear me then? Any better that I can hear you now?13