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They say it's like the loss of a limb. It leaves you waking up in shock every day with the abysmall feeling of something missing. And you never get used to it. You just learn to live with the torture of realizing this loss over and over and over again. Cause in sleep your mind somehow puts you back together. But then waking up tears you right back into pieces and the sudden numb pain hits you again, out of nowhere.

The Art of Getting By

"I read this quote once when I was a kid, “We live alone, we die alone. Everything else is just an illusion. ” It used to keep me up at night. We all die alone. So, why am I supposed to spend my life working, sweating, struggling?…For an illusion? Because no amount of friends, no girl, no assignments about conjugating the pluperfect or determining the square root of the hypotenuse is gonna help me avoid my fate. I have better things to do with my time.”

Ще си ходя?

Помниш ли? Опитвахме се да го измислим сякаш значеше нещо. Сякаш щеше да придаде смисъл на нещо. А то е просто. И няма нужда някой да го измисля.

Ето. Родих се, бях бебе, дете, тийнейджър, юноша. Дишах, плаках, храних се, прохождах. Пораснах. Учих се. Запомянх. Забравях. Правех грешки. Успявах. Страхувах се. Не ми пукаше. Пях, танцувах, играх, смях се, обичах, мразих, работих, пътувах, забавлявах се, бях тъжна, бях щастлива, раздавах, взимах, усмихвах се, плаках още, чувствах, мислих.  Поглъщах музика, картини, танци, усещания, цветове, вкусове, аромати. Използвах мозъка, сърцето си, белите си дробове, черния дроб, очите, ушите, носът, устата, ръцете, краката. Видях по малко от всичко, което тя ми позволи да видя. Записах си прилежно в тетрадката. Може би това е? Може би е време да си ходя?

Until We Bleed

I'm naked

I'm numb

I'm stupid

I'm staying

Shall we play?

Imagine your life has gone terribly wrong. No dramatic events have turned it upside down. But things have simply turned awry. Like you've been walking a mine field, and every step that you've taken seems to have been the wrong move, so you ended up setting off an explosion every time. Thousands of explosions, day after day. So, you're there, in the middle of that field, all shabby and torn, wondering how to move on. Would you dare take the next step? And what if this time you don't get out of it alive?