the broken locks were a warning you got inside my head.

Meredith: "People are constantly asking you to tell them how you're doing. How the hell are you supposed to know?"

Meredith: "Like I said, disappearances happen. Pains go phantom. Blood stops running and people, people fade away. There's more I have to say, so much more, but, I disappeared."


I feel like, I have so much to say. So so much, but in a moment after, I've swallowed everything back down again. I don't feel like saying anything anymore. I don't dare to say anything anymore. It's the words, words that I embrace so fervently, words that could possibly mean everything to me. It's the words, words that could bring me up to the heavens, words that could throw me into hell. It's the words, words that hurt so damn bad because at the end of the day, it is the only thing that remains, the only thing left invading your head over and over again.

I feel like I'm back to my old self, the one I hated, the one I prayed and wished that I'll never get to see again. I'm back to when I used to talked in endless monologues, talked in morse codes that nobody could understand, only because, only because this is the only way that could make me feel a little safer. Because if you let people see you like an open book, they will only slowly tear the pages out, until finally, there is nothing left.

I miss, being able to find joy in small little things. The happiness that comes, although in spurts, but stays. I just don't feel it anymore. I can't just want it back, just because I want it to. If it's not there, it's just not going to be there. And everyday you see people whom are not aware of what you actually are. So you pretend, you pretend to be the person everybody would rather see, while you fight the demons within you constantly. Maybe you won't understand. Maybe you won't realize it. I don't know how it happened. But I seem to have lost the capacity to actually be sincerely, truthfully happy and to make it stay. I don't know how it happened. But it did.

I've lost track of the time, but since one certain day, every single dream I have is a nightmare. Some make me unable to wake up from them. Some make me wake up in the middle of the night, grasping at the empty space, with the scream stuck in my throat. I can't sleep. I can't sleep without the dreaming.

The hard part, is about trying to hate everybody else in the world but failing to do so, because you realize, that the only person you really hate, is yourself.