About the series :
In case the title didn’t give it all, Through the Shattered Glass is going to be my Grey Journal. I am going to document my lowest, darkest moments in life. It is also a Journal, but it will only display my darkest days, perhaps even a bit about the aftermath.
You know how sometimes they tell you to reward yourself for those small achievements you make? Wait. That is actually what I usually tell my self. People usually tend to disregard small achievements; most people give zero fucks about what you achieve; others have a hobby of eliminating anything that would make you feel like a better person.
Here is the thing. Maybe I am wrong. Perhaps I shouldn’t count my blessings. Every time I applaude myself for having the courage and strength to resist iT, to have some hope that maybe someday I will be free of iTs despair, I find iTs eyes staring back at mine. And I am left with two choices, and nothing but two choices.
Choice no 1: Keep on staring back at iT, and see all the reasons why everything would be better if I cease to exist. Choice no 2: Dare to look away, and be stuck in the grey. If you think one seems bleaker than the other, oh boy, oh boy, you are so fucking wrong.
See. I can keep on staring into iTs hypnotizing window of ” lies?”, but at that moment, my brain registers iTs words as the only holy truth. iT keeps on revealing all of my past mistakes, facts about my current failures, and a precise prediction about by bleak future.
My heart is locked in a metal cage that keeps on shrinking, making me unable to breath, making me wanting to leave. Leave this place. Not because death might sound like a better life for me, but because MY death is the best thing that could ever happen to this world. My parents would be relieved that I am gone, friends will be happy that our friendship is done, and the number of Wars going on will be equal to none.
I will cry for hours till I run out of breath; I cry my heart out till burning in hell is where I believe I should be. I am still writing this, so I am still here. Haven’t suicided yet, but that is where his eyes lead to.
Perhaps your yelling ” Don’t look into HIS eyes!” But you see, without iTs eyes staring back at mine, the world looks so grey. I don’t feel happy, and I don’t feel sad. My soul is numbed towards everything, including the things that thrill me in life, and the things that I absolutely loath and despise. It stays like that, till my eyes and iTs meet again. And sometimes, I welcome iT entering my sight. Because for the 1st time since forever, I can feel again. Even if it’s negative and bleak.
It is a full circle, without a loop hole. But I will keep on searching for one. There is always one hiding somewhere, in every grey corner. How cool would it be if I had a Dora with me?? Perhaps then I could find my getaway.
Till next time,