Posted by: catsandfish | January 27, 2013

Back to Black

I am having this problem, trying to be positive when all of my logic tells me that this world we exist in is a terrible, negative place. A good metaphor for this feeling would be what I wear. I wear almost exclusively black. I have for years. Once I discovered that is covered my sweat from my anxiety, it didn’t reflect odd colors onto my pale skin, it didn’t stain…it seemed the natural choice. Utilitarian. Something that matches everything, requires no special care. Basic. That’s how I feel about optimism. I may try it on sometimes, but then it is back to wearing pessimism. Black makes sense. Either not giving a fuck or being depressed just makes sense. It feels natural. There are bight flashes of happiness, but still, an overwhelming sadness and horrible loneliness overwhelms every aspect of the world we live in. I want to escape, even if it is just for a night. Drink until I’m not feeling, until the noise in my head stops. The fucking hurricane of thoughts, the buzzing bee hive of insanity that threatens to break out every single day. I just want it to stop. The squirming  throbbing pain in every part of me. I just want to scream until it stops. Take every drug available to quell the banging sick shit I hear from my own subconscious. Feeling like the walls are closing in, like I can’t breathe, because the world is so awful. The only things that keep me holding on are my friends, William, and my pets. I don’t want to fuck up their lives. I have a glimmer of hope sometimes, I try to stop and smell the flowers, try to wear the pastels, but that feeling always bleeds out. Back to black.

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