Okay?

Okay?

I want to paint

Lines in arterial red

Don’t worry

I won’t make a mess

Just forget me, okay?

I’m not really worth your time anyway

But you’re so good

You’re kinder than I deserve

And I feel I might betray you

If I paint

Lines on my arms

That cannot be erased

Why wouldn't I do it?

You

Only you

So I’m sorry

I lied when I said:

I’m fine

It’s okay

Smiles of Stepford wives

But this is the truth:

I’m alive because of you

Please tell me you’re okay with that

This is directed at the people who have helped me most during my depressive episodes.  A special thanks goes to my friend, Kei-san, who was more or less instrumental in helping me through my first real suicidal period.  When I told Kei-san what I'd been considering, I got an immediate phone call, and we talked for a long time.  To call that "helpful" is a gross understatement, but I honestly cannot express in language the depth of my gratitude towards Kei-san.

So, thank you, Kei-san.

Thank you, Mother.

Thank you, Father.

Thank you, Silver-sensei.

Thank you, Kim-sensei.

Thank you.

—•—•—

"Answer: That you are here, and life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."—Walt Whitman

—L

In the Details

In the Details

Devil’s in the details

is it so?

I look and look

Solar systems

Stars and planets

Continents and oceans

Mountains and rivers

Forests

Fields

Grass

Insects

Cells

Atoms

Ever smaller, ever smaller

I look and look

and slowly

I see God in the details He crafted


I love this world and my life.  As the reader might surmise, I am religious.  I was considering the phrase "the devil's in the details".  It refers to the fact that small things, when overlooked, can trip up large projects.  But the details themselves are divine.  Perhaps it is only in ignoring those finely-crafted details that we fall short.  That, then, would mean that "the devil's in tuning out the details".  In that vein, giving each detail the attention due to it is one step closer to the divine.

—•—•—

"Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect."—Matt. 5:48

—L

Proxy

Proxy

please

leave me alone

just

don’t

revive me

if I’m on life support

please

just let me die

don’t

pull me back to the light

please

let me sleep forever

don’t

wake me up

please

please

please

if something should happen to me

read this in reverse

I wonder if these have been overdone yet?  I think they're very creative and interesting.  Also, very hard to do.  I wrote this to get myself out of a bad state of mind after a string of events.

In my low moods, I am what I choose to call "passively suicidal".  I wouldn't shoot myself, but if someone with a gun told me to get on the ground… I would not kneel.

When my medication is in effect, however, I don't want to die.  Both ways of reading this are accurate depending on how much of my antidepressant is in my system.

Palindromes are cool.

—•—•—

"I don't wanna battle from beginning to end. I don't wanna cycle recycled revenge. I don't wanna follow Death and all of his friends."—Coldplay, "Death And All Of His Friends"

—L

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern

I could have done it

I thought about it

I almost did it

I wanted it

I didn’t want to hurt you

It was never your fault

It wasn’t about you

It was about me

I

hate

myself

so

I wanted it

I almost did it

I thought about it

I could have done it

I could’ve killed myself

I mentioned that I had two very powerful breakdowns.  This is about the first.

I have never been very good at self-care.  Some days, eating feels like a chore, even when I'm hungry.  Moving feels impossible, and I know, lying there, that I am capable of moving.  My limbs would respond, given direction, but my brain won't send the signal properly.  It's almost like locked-in syndrome, but it's a mental problem rather than a physical one.

The lack of self-care, the untreated depression, and the stress of college drove me down a very dangerous road, until the only thing that I could even imagine helping was suicide.  What ultimately stopped me was the fear that I would disappoint my father.  In the end, I just laid on my bed and stared at the drawer where I kept my camping knife.

—•—•—

"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel."—Johnny Cash, "Hurt"

—L