Countdown: #3 “Going Under”


F#ck, f#ck, f#ck the public internet connection!!! These days it’s totally f#cked up so I didn’t have nearly any internet at all for Friday and Saturday!! Today in the morning the electricity was cut down for a couple of hours too due to repairs. And on Monday it will be cut down for nearly twenty (?!?!) hours!! What the #$%&?!? So I’ll post today two more countdown entries (Friday & Saturday) and maybe I’ll add Sunday too later. If I manage to of course since the power cut will be in a couple of hours.. I literally hate my city..

Friday, December 3rd 2010

“Going Under”

So today wasn’t that exciting and everything. I realised that I hate one thing the most in the C.. And that’s not the fact that it’s so dirty and polluted with litter everywhere around you. A thing that has been strengthened by the fact that the garbage men were on strike for nearly a week. Thankfully the strike has finished today ’cause rubbish had nearly inundated the streets. It’s neither the fact that people here are so damn cold, always in a hurry to go somewhere and hesitant to interact with any other person. What I hate the most  is the fact that I am unable to see the sky.

I cannot see the stars in the sky during the night since it’s extremely polluted and covered by a constant “cloud”. And I love just standing and staring at the stars above me. I adore their infinity and the magic they hold. In my hometown where the sky was far more clear, you could see the stars expanding through the sky, forming elaborate undefined shapes. Furthermore I hate the fact that I am unable to see both the dawn and the dusk. So many tall buildings are covering the horizon. And both dusk and dawn are things that entwine me, enchant me every time I watch them. The way the sky from dark turns to bright, gradually as the sun is emitting behind the sea or a mountain (depending on where you are), or how the sky gets that purple and deep orange colour as the sun is sinking in the sea. Twilight (And I’m so NOT talking about the book). It’s the most lovely thing in the world. And I can’t help feeling incomplete as I am unable to get lost in its magnificence. Dawn symbolizes the rise of hope, the beginning of a brand new day. Dusk is the end of it. The succumb to our passions. When the monsters come alive.

Nevertheless I don’t know if that’s the reason I keep going down lately. Falling on my knees never seemed to “please” me more. It seems that every step I take is leading me closer to the ruining of either my body or soul. Opheliac. As Emilie Autumn calls it. I am my worst enemy. And I just stare as I open up to people I know they will betray me. As I chase that one more drink or cigarette. As I “play” with people who could hurt me. Going insane? I don’t really know. I can’t tell anymore. Suddenly I feel on my own. I always were and I knew it. It hurts me knowing so many people and most of them not caring but a couple of ones. But I still go on to meet more of them.

Sometimes I feel like Ke$ha, meaning the image she “sells”. That oh-so-drunk, oh-so-high, oh-so-wasted thing she usually is or pretends to be (I can’t really know which is true since I don’t know her personally). Other times I feel like Monroe. Taking me hours to go out, just to be “perfect”. Arriving late, “shining” in my (personal) stylish image. Not as a mask though. My feelings are still there, to be seen by everyone. If I’m sad I show it even if everything else seems to be “perfect”. I don’t like pretending. I don’t like putting a mask on every time I step out my house and therefore playing the role of that perfectly happy person. Like Monroe did. But in her eyes, the windows to our souls as some name them, anyone could see it. She was broken. Torn and betrayed. Usually that’s the case with me. Only in my eyes one can see my sorrow since I’m easily carried away from it when I’m around friends of mine. And so I feel happy and I show that. But deep inside I still feel bad but not that much as when I am alone..

Tonight I had arranged to go to that jazz concert. I ended up arriving there just half an hour before it finished. Lame I know. But I couldn’t help it. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the misery of my house nor the pleasure of the stories I write. Stories that could be an alternative reality. Where I would be more tough and strong..

It’s not that I hate myself though. I like me the way I am. I enjoy fighting for what I want rather than being given it just like that. But there are those times that I feel I’m going under.. And it scares me so f#cking much..


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