Where to now?

You thought you were fine. Until one day. Or night in my case. Pretending is what I do best. Pretending even to myself. Some things just can't be said out loud. They're meant to stay deep down. Yet when they surface, they do so with such an incredible force that they crush everything.
Another sleepless night. "I love you" whispered in the bright, white night. For the first time in my life. I meant it. Too bad it fell on deaf ears. It will always be the same. I keep bruising myself. Every single, fucking day of my existence. I will never be complete again. I will never feel entirely happy ever again.
You feel stuck. Inside your mind, your thoughts. You are hurting. You are hurting so bad it kills you on the inside. Words are not enough to describe this feeling. Nobody can fully listen or understand for they wish to pretend everything is fine. They want to show you that "everything is great, enjoy your life because it's awesome". But it's not. It can't be. It won't be. Will it ever be?
There are moments when you can't stand it anymore. But you have no idea what to do to make it go away. In those moments you are completely alone for nobody can comfort you. Although sometimes miracles do happen, but they're over and it's highly unlikely they will happen again. Are those moments never to happen again? Are you left alone with your hurt? Or even worse, you need to pretend that things are "okay"? That is the thing that scares you the most.
Oh well, this is your life, Emma. I would have expected some acceptance by now. But of course, acceptance is just around the corner. Yet you can't expect me to embrace my fate so easily. I will. One day. Some day. Maybe. I don't know. I really don't know. 

Happy fucking Christmas

Yeah, Christmas is here. One of the most depressing times of the year, along with Easter and birthdays. But let's focus on Christmas, as in on the present. Although the things I am going to say apply to all of the above mentioned anniversaries. One cannot conceive not celebrating any of these "special times of the year" without our Families. Why? Are these the only times when our family members find a few hours to spend with their "loved ones"? You may be in the company of each and every family member and still feel incredibly alone. You just want to get this entire charade over with. And the funny thing is that everybody thinks you're having a blast. Well, I can't really tell them that; it would completely ruin their beliefs. And I wouldn't want to hurt my "family", "the only people on this earth that love me", right? I've always hated these family moments. Yet I've realized that year after year things keep getting worse. Because they just can't understand the fact that you've grown, that things won't be the same as they were when you were 10. I believe that family are those people who you feel close to. That doesn't necessarily include the blood related people.
Yesterday night, the first day of Christmas of 2010, I was sitting in the living room while I was watching the lights on the Christmas tree. That reminded me of the times when I was sick and I was laying in the exact same bed. The same lights, the same bed, the same damn tree. The only difference is that now I am not sick anymore. And I hope I will never be. After that I desperately felt the need to go out for a walk. And a cigarette. That wasn't exactly the state of mind that I wanted on the first day of Christmas, but I couldn't help myself. I am a mess, my life is a mess, everything is a mess. I am still trying to piece myself together and I don't know if I can do it. I am afraid, afraid of not getting hurt. AGAIN. Because apparently I am so good at getting myself hurt.

Personal work pt.3

Dear Santa

* image by http://lady-tori.deviantart.com/

Dear Santa,

I don't even think you remember who I am because ever since the 4th grade (when I found the letter I sent you in my parents' room) i haven't written you. Why is that? Mostly because I was angry at my them because they didn't send the letter I so carefully wrote you. I trusted them and they couldn't even make their little girl's wish come true. throughout the years, I also thought I could give myself the presents, the rewards I thought I deserved. But from time to time it's nice to see that there's somebody else out there that is thinking of you and wishes to make you happy, even for just a for a second.

Oh Santa, I am terribly unhappy. I am sure you know why. Unfortunately there's nothing you can do to change this situation. If you would have asked me a couple of weeks ago what I wanted I could have said it without hesitation. Now I'm not so sure it's such a good idea. I will surely end up harming myself again if I listen to my heart. I do wish to ask you something though. Please don't bring him back again. Please make him be happy there so that he won't be coming again here. I've had my share with happy moments and they're over now. I have to accept it for I know I cannot live by feeding on memories. I've done this my entire life and there comes a time when I have to start looking in the future. Not for anybody else, but for me. I just want to be happy, accepted and understood. And I thought that he was the person I have waited for so long. Yes, I know, one should never be too excited about something because if something sounds too good to be true then it's not.

Would I be too pushy if I asked you to bring Shiba and Greta in my house and in my room? I think that having a pet would help me a lot, especially now. You know how much care and love I showed my two tortoises I had a few years ago. You know very well that they eventually died (my guess because of the terribly chemical tap water). So that's why I didn't want any more pets; I didn't want to kill any more innocent animals. However, I feel that now I am much more mature and responsible to take care of the two tiny creatures. (btw, Shiba and Greta are rats)

I would like to thank you though; to thank you for bringing me a gift in advance. Thank you for bringing Silvia into my life again. I have no idea where I would be now without her. I would be much more miserable, that I can assure you. Thank you for showing me that I am not alone in this world, I am not weird, that there are other people that think like me. She always manages to bring a smile on my face and for the first time in my life I feel that I can truly count on somebody. It's a great feeling!

Phew..you know me Santa, I like to write a lot. And this time I really tried to keep it short and simple. But I can't. You know I can't. Anyway, I really hope you managed to read these lines and I hope that I managed to bring a smile on your face when reading my letter through.

Lots of love (because no matter how much I say I cannot give somebody my love, I will always end up doing it)
Laura

Personal work pt.2

Personal work

Sunt ciudata [dar nu ma tratez]

Detest cand mama incearca sa-si arate afectiunea, mai ales cand se joaca cu parul meu.
De fiecare data cand aud sunetul ambulantei imi imaginez o tanara (niciodata un baiat!) care a incercat sa se sinucida taindu-si venele. Parca si vad sangele care ii picura pe asfalt, lasand o dara de sange in urma transportului spre ambulanta.
Cateodata ma intreb ce reactie ar avea cei din jur daca ar sti la ce ma gandesc. Si daca ar sti, ar mai vrea sa vorbeasca cu mine? Cel mai probabil ca nu.
Aproape toate melodiile din playlistul meu au o semnificatie. Iar unele melodii imi aduc atat de tare de anumite momente, episoade, perioade (de cele mai multe ori toate negative) incat uneori nu pot sa le ascult. Dar sunt fericita ca mi-am gasit un gen de muzica cu care ma identific. Majoritatea melodiilor le-am descoperit in liceu, dar pot sa ascult o piesa de 500 de ori si tot nu ma plictisesc de ea daca imi place mult.
Detest cand mi se spune ca ascult "muzica de copiii". Ma enerveaza cand cineva imi judeca gusturile muzicale pentru ca orice mi-ar spune cei din jur eu tot asta voi asculta.
Imi place mult sa merg intr-o cafenea. Singura. Mai fac asta din cand in cand, mai ales cand simt nevoia sa gandesc. De cele mai multe ori am si un pix si multe foi alaturi, dar si un ceai/cafea/ceva cald de baut(care oricum dupa cateva ore se raceste, dar nu conteaza) si un pachet de tigari. A, si neaparat iPodul. Nu pot sa scriu daca nu ascult muzica MEA.
Am un cont pe facebook. De ce? Nu, nu pentru stalk-uit oameni, ci pentru jocuri. Am inceput cu 4-5, dar acum am redus considerabil la doar 2(ma rog, recent 2 pentru ca am fost corupta).
Intotdeauna cand cineva vorbeste cu mine ma intreb daca e obligat sa o faca; mai devreme sau mai tarziu tot ma gandesc ca cei cu care vorbesc au ceva mai bun de facut decat sa stea cu mine.
Nu plang niciodata in public; de fapt o singura data am facut-o si mi-a fost imposibil sa ma controlez. Era vara, tocmai mergeam spre casa lui; era penultima oara cand faceam drumul acela. M-am asezat in spatele autobuzului 35, mi-am pus gluga in cap si am inceput sa plang. Nu imi pasa daca ma vedea cineva, tot ce simteam era durerea sfasietoare din suflet, care din pacate nu putea fi alinata de cateva lacrimi. Ploua, nu aveam umbrela, apa imi intra in papuci, incepeau sa mi se ude sosetele, ochelarii imi erau incarcati de picaturi de apa, privirea impaienjenita de lacrimi...Nici nu vedeam bine pe unde mergeam si chiar nu ma interesa. Tin minte ca eram in clasa a 12a. Da, atunci am plans mult. Acum imi amintesc ca tot atunci am plans de 2 ori in fata ei. Prima data, motiv absolut absurd imi dau seama acum, dar atunci mi s-a parut ca e sfarsitul pamantului. De fapt si a doua oara daca stau sa ma gandesc mai bine. Am chiulit de la mate, like omg, eu, Laura Sabau :)) Tin minte ca efectiv nu ma puteam opri din plans. Deja epuizasem toate resursele mele de servetele (si de obicei am 2 pachete, just in case) si am rugat-o sa imi mai dea un pachet. Venea deja pauza, iar eu nu ma oprisem din plans. Copiii din clasele I-IV incepeau deja sa misune prin curte, iar unii se mai uitau la mine. In privirea lor vedeam confuzie si neintelegere ("vorbim peste 5-6 ani" ma gandeam).
Imi place sa numar. Cand ma plictisesc numar. Trebuie neaparat sa fie un multiplu de 10. Daca nu iese din prima, mai pun o data la numaratoare masinile/farurile/liniile/geamurile.
Cateodata imi place sa privesc peste ochelari si vad totul in bokeh. [mai ales cand e noapte]. Imi place sa vad farurile de la masini si stopurile asa. Miopia can prove to be fun sometimes.