Inevitable

"You may be able to choose how you play your part in the story, but you'll never be able to choose the ending"- me


I'm 21 years old.

I live alone and work overnights, the sun hurts my eyes now and I relish the act of dreaming of a better world while the 9 to 5ers slave away.

Every day off I have I spend losing my control, indulging in things that make me look at the world in a different perspective. Sometimes these things are dangerous, but it's a risk I love to take.

In early september I feared pregnancy; a lasting reminder of someone I wanted to forget. Thankfully that wasn't the case and I was able to be glad that I have no physical memories of him.

My boyfriend (since September) is charismatic and in love with my poison. He takes the warnings I give him and loves me anyway, caressing the ragged edges of my soul and trying to unlock the heart I sealed away after the last mistake.

I've lost over 30lbs since September. Anger fueled this process, MDMA and water gave it momentum.

In November, I got my second tattoo and chopped off my long hair. I've never had so many superficial compliments before and I'm letting every one of them go to my head.

In December I exploited a boy, used him for money and gave him nothing in return. Emotions and my capacity to care has had the volumne turned down, and I relish the act of selfishness that I can impose. These people never ask for anything, well aware of the fire burning in my eyes.

Christmas eve, up north, I spent the night mellowed by Morphine that I purchased from a shady lady by the name of Talia. The beat of the music becoming my pulse, my train of thought.

I got jumped outside work a few weeks ago. He may have bruised my face, but I broke his arm. He got charged with assault. I gained respect.

I hit the waterfall a few days before New year's, and it K.O'd my sanity. I feared I had lost my mind forever, but what a ride. My heart was beating so hard that it felt like there was no room for air. I kept quiet because I knew if I opened my mouth, I'd start screaming and never stop.

A girl has fallen in love with me, and I feel no need to discourage it. When someone loves you, they will willing give you a apart of themselves with which you can do whatever you like. Having her under my enchantment may prove useful in the end.

A week ago, after a few weeks of testing, I found out that I have damaged my lungs. The doctor tells me I have to quit smoking if I ever want to see 30, but who wants to live that long and not have any fun? Every puff hurts my lungs, but the pain reminds me that I am still human.

"Life is worth these moments of lost control"- me
I can't help but be drawn to acts of self-mutilation (in the non-physical sense) where I can strip away a layer of myself and see what's inside. How can you ever truly know yourself without peeling away the superficial layers. I'd rather die with a few scars than not having ever done anything.

These things that I've done make up who I am, they are my life, my choices. They are not "good" but neither am I, and I am happy to be who I am. Within every tragedy there is some beauty, some reason.

This is my life and I'll live it until I die.