emily
⚧ emily | 22 | in her heart
 
 
i'm sad



    When the individual who is mentally defenceless, he must resort to persuasion.


The fascist who came up with this phrase is one hell of a genius.

It just feels...

           In sickness and in health,
           Through happiness and sadness
      For richer, for poorer, until death do us part
                I'd rather die
                   
If needed, i'll dry all your tears, and be there for you when nobody else is.
I hate myself for feeling like this again, but hey, it's life i guess.

   i'm sick of living, nobody wants to help me, and that's alright.
I really would like to close my eyes someday and never wake up again.


And if I die I die
♥♥♥♥♥ I don't mind,
yeah I'll smoke a blunt tonight,
yeah I lost my side,
yeah You know my type, yeah
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My Mind
        The day i ceased to live was so long ago, i'm almost completly numb
         Not that it makes it any better, but better to be numb than in pain

            I'm just easily replaceable. 

Even by those who claim to care about me the most. 

Ironically, those are the ones that tend to   screw me over

              Thanks for nothing
╭———————————————————。˚ʚ :Alicemare_Letty: ɞ˚。———————————————————╮
                              - I'm Emily.
                    - I'm 20 years old.
         - I'm into games with immersive stories, and a few online games.
          - I do Youtube, very casual programming and writing aswell.

╰———————————————————。˚ʚ :Alicemare_Letty: ɞ˚。———————————————————╯


I'd Rather Sleep
Clouds periodically cover the moon, casting a shadow over me as i sit in my room staring at the outside world, no particular thought remaining in my mind for too long.

My mind feels like a void, and time seems to pass without me noticing. I can't recall anything from the last few hours, or even days, i know something happened, i know i did things, or at least i think i did, but i can't rememeber anything, all that exists is me, the bed i currently lie on, the window to my left which casts the light from the outside, and the clock resting by the lamp to my right, ticking away as time goes by.

I'm not so sure what time it is, but it doesn't entirely matter, all that matters, are the final hours i will get to enjoy the peaceful sounds of nature, and the soothing presence of the moon, despite the ocasional passing cloud.

When did i do it? When did i stop feeling the sting? I lost track of time. Ever since i was left to fend for myself, without sustain, my mind became a blur, time means nothing, all i have anymore to spare me from the loneliness is the sound of clock to my right, and the glowing presence of the moon shining through the window to my left. They are all i have, and they are all i will have, until my eyes never open again.

As that thought crosses my mind, i start to notice the sting again, it's on my left, it's located on my left arm. What exactly did i do again? I lower my head to try and look at my arm resting on the bed and realise, i can't focus. When did i lose the ability to focus my vision? I realise my arm and the surrounding sheets are stained red, and then for a brief moment, the clouds covering my mind show an opening, and i remember.

I remember what i did, the origin of the sting, but when i try to recall more specifically what caused it, i draw a blank, as if something pushes me back every time, i just can't seem to remember. What exactly is hidden behind this unseen force?

As i slowly start to remember the presence of the growing pool of red, i stop thinking of anything else, and those thoughts wither away, soon to be lost forever.

As my vision starts to fade, and everything seems to blur more each passing tick of the clock, i turn my head back to the window. The moonlight has kept me company, it is beautiful and a true blessing to have it cast upon me, but i'm tired, the world around me is fading, and the waking world is no longer in my reach.

I think now, is the time to finally rest.


Written mid Summer of 2018

Doesn't Matter
The void engufls my very being, no questions, no memories, no thoughts, no nothing. Around me, it is as if the world stopped. I become aware of the existance of some sounds as time passes, but as if on key, as i am brought to their presence, it is like they cease to exist and i forget they are there.

How long have i been like this? When did i become aware of this pattern? As those thoughts pass the last waking parts of my mind, they fade away as if never having been there. Doesn't matter i guess.

My heart feels, strange, it feels as if it has been crushed, and in it, is nothing, why does it feel like this? What happened? I can't seem to remember when it became like this, it's all i notice. As the world seems to have stopped around me, all i can remember from the voyages through the never ending darkness of my mind, is that the place where my heart used to be feels odd. When did i notice this? Did i become acustom to this over the years? Well, doesn't matter.

How long have i been alone? I look around, but i don't see anyone, i don't see anything in the mess of blurred shapes. They don't matter anyways, and as i think that, i am enveloped in the welcoming nothing i grew so used to.

As all thoughts fade from my mind, i am once again reunited with the strange feeling in my heart, it is my only companion, it's all which remains in this solitude. It's all i have anymore, and i may aswell embrace it.

Written In the Late Summer of 2018

Moving Out
The dropplets fall on the window brightened only by my lamp, as i overlook the grey world outside brightened by street lights and moon´s conforting glow, cursing every passing figure in sight.

*sigh*

I lay down my cup of coffee with a morbid smile springing accross my face. Observing the dull glow eminating from my clock in the kitchen i realise there are but minutes remaining before i am lifted...

I set my phone on my desk without volume so all that surrounds me is the sound of rain outside and the gentle machineary flowing the air in the room with it´s artificial rotation which i now stand under, closer than what one should be.

I take one last look at the area that housed my existance these past years, a welcoming place that i have only barely been able to maintain. The view from this complex has been somewhat refreshing to see, however, i want to make one last change.

...

As my breath slows and my heartbeat increases, i close my eyes, after some breif glances of warming memories from my past, I begin to think, of my final journey, to The Purple Skied Garden.


Written in the late Summer of 2015


" you were a happy dream in a life that's been nothing but a hellish nightmare"
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