Malicious's blog: "this is real life"

Honestly, it's hard to believe it's been one year. Exactly. To the day. One year. It feels like it's been so much longer, like I've been alone and aching forever. And like it was only yesterday at the sametime. It's the odd sense of time that only comes with greif and despair. A severe loss, half of myself torn from the world. My heart is missing a piece of itself, and it's a rip that will never heal. I'm not sure I'm even making sense at this point. Then again, I'm not sure I care about making sense to anyone except myself. Because this? This isn't for you. Really, it's not. This is for me, for my own sanity. If you read it, more power to you. I think I'm going to make this a letter to him, because I feel like I need to do this. Right after he passed, I wrote him every few days. But I stopped because, well, it hurt to much. And I knew I didn't have to write anything for him to hear me. I just had to talk. I know that's still true, but every now and then, you just need to put things down on to paper. Or into a computer, as the case might be. I want to get the words out of my soul and into the air. So, I did. Dear Jason, Hey sweetie. How's everything in the afterlife, is it all that they said it would be? I hope so. I like to think, that if you can't be here on Earth with us, at least you're happy and painfree. I know you suffered so much those last few months. I also know you would have suffered a lot longer if you could have stayed here. But that wasn't the plan for you. It's been a year now, to the day and it still aches like it was yesterday. I realize I'm suppose to take comfort in the fact you're not in pain and you're finally free. And that you're still with me in spirit, watching over me. But honestly, it's not the same if I can't hold you in my arms. If I can't feel your lips against mine anymore. It's all so hollow. It's all so fake, you know what I mean? Of course you do, you always understood me. Even when I didn't understand myself. J.J.'s doing pretty good, I suppose. I think he'd be doing a million times better if you were still around to champion for him. I still spend time with him now and then, at least I get that much. He looks just like you, there's no denying it. And he acts like you too. As if he rules the world and everyone needs to bow down to him. Like he's a prince among theives. No one could say he's not your son. And if they tried? I'd kill them for you. Because you can't do it anymore. I guess Judy's trying her best? But let's face it, she's never been the greatest at all this. They haven't had their own place to live in months. At least you were always able to provide a roof. But with you watching over him, I know he'll grow up just fine. You wouldn't allow it to be any other way. It's so hard to keep moving forward right now. Truthfully, I have to struggle just to climb out of bed in the morning, but I do it anyways. I promised you once, that I would never give up. No matter what happened, I would push to achieve my dreams. And I am. Maybe I'm not doing it as strongly or as steadily as before. I wont deny that I'm not shooting as high as I once did, that for now my dreams are mundane and tiny. For me though? They're perfect because they're still a challenge. And one day, I will shoot for the stars again. When I'm ready to look farther. I know you understand this. And fuck everyone who tries to judge me for it. You taught me to always stand up for myself. You taught me a lot, and I'll always remember those lessons. Doing so helps to keep you alive in my heart. Some people have judged me for trying to move on so, in their opinion, quickly. But I haven't really. Oh I know I've seen people and dated someone, but it was superficial at best. I couldn't stop thinking about you and mostly, I was just trying to ease the pain a bit. It's hard to blame me for that. It doesn't matter what they think anyways, they know nothing about me. I show one face to the world, a girl whose strong and smart and at ease with herself. But we know the truth. Inside, I'm a quivering mess and I can hardly see straight. But I know better than to show my weakness to people, that only encourages them to walk all over me. Like you always said, keep your head up and a smile on your face through it all. That's what you always did. So that's what I do now. I guess in a sense, this letter has no real purpose. I can't send it to you and I know you already know everything I've typed here. But I wanted to get it out of my head. I wanted it to be something valid and tangible. I want you to know how much I love you. How much I did love you. And how much I will always love you. It doesn't matter where I go in life or what I do. It doesn't matter how long it takes me to reach you again. I know that eventually, we'll be together again. Because you are my other half, my soulmate, the only thing that ever truly completed me. I wont forget you, so please don't forget me. I love you Jason. Love Always, Me

I don't know why, but I find myself becoming more and more reclusive as time goes on. I can still remember when I was a "social butterfly" and I loved to go out with groups of people and have fun. Now, I hate being around people and I find myself being a bit elitist about who I talk to. I spend a lot of time with Cait, she's one of the few people I can stand one a regular basis. I get annoyed with even my best friends lately. I haven't been online near as much as I used to, and when I am I tend to hide either invisible or behind an away message. I can't really name a timeframe for when my thought process shifted, for when I suddenly became this anti-social creature, more content to sit at home or go get coffee with one person. I suppose it was a gradual thing, just over time I became exasperated with society in general. I mean, a person can only handle so much before they snap. A woman in the movie will only listen to the guy lie so many times before she gives up and leaves. I guess I can only handle so many repetitious encounters of the same pretentious bullshit before I say ENOUGH ALREADY. I think I've hit that number. Oh, that's not to say I'm giving up completely. I actually have to say that in the past year, I've come a long way as a human being. I mean, I went through hell and back, had my entire perception of reality destroyed with the utterance of a single sentence. Well, it's been just shy of 11 months technically, but the one year mark is coming up so bloody quickly. It's completely ironic to me, in a rather uncomic sort of way, that in one sense the year has flown by in a tremendous blur, but in the other, it's been horrifically slow and emotional. I don't know how to explain it really. I suppose anyone who's gone through a tramatic experience in their life could sympathize with my situation. And probably collaborate with my sense of time. I'll be honest here, because really, when am I anything besides honest? I'm terrified of next month. It's going to be like reliving it all over again and I know it. It's a horrific timeline too. May 19th; my birthday. Then 6 days later, on May 25th; his birthay. Jump forward 6 more days to May 31st, and there's his date of death. Compounded on top of this, his son's birthday is June 1st. Fate has a fucked up sense of humor, doesn't it? I'm not sure how I'm going to get through this all over again. I guess I'm just gonna have to grin and bear it. I mean, what other choice to I have? It's somewhat funny to me, when I opened the webpage and clicked on blogs. Saw the blinking cursor sitting in the blank white box, I contemplated hitting the back button. I honest thought to myself that I had nothing to say and this would be a waste of time. Goes to show, you can always be proven wrong. Even by yourself.

i'll never understand this world, i accept this though it doesn't stop my heart and soul from aching with a desire to do so. why do humans feel the need to fight and argue with each other? why do we feel pride from destroying another person's life? so many people feed on hurt and misery, they can only smile if they make someone else cry. it's pathetic. it's immoral. but it's fact. i don't claim perfection, for i too have fallen victim to the thirst for revenge. it's a powerful drug, holding the key to someone else's destruction in the palm of your hand. but this doesn't make it right. so many people in this world live just for this emotion. i don't understand it and maybe i'm not suppose to? i wasn't always as callous and abrasive as i am now. i used to care about people. a lot. i used to be the type of person that would go out of her way and bend over backwards to help a random stranger on the street. because i wanted to believe that there was still good in the world. and that it was possible for humans to help one another in some aspects. but after so many times of being bitten and shit on instead of thanked, i can't do it anymore. i'm tired of being a doormat that everyone steps all over. a person can only handle so much before they just give up and i know i've reached that point. i'm so tired of hurting. and crying. and feeling worthless. i'm getting to the point where i'm just plain tired of emotions. sometimes, i just want to give up in general. give up smile and laughter just so i can give up tears and pain. seems like a fair trade, no? i'm not sure if i really have that kind of strength of mind though. sure, i pretend to be strong and able to handle anything but it's just a mask. inside, i'm a wreck and i admit it. here. but don't ever expect me to say it again. i don't even know why i'm writing any of this, i highly doubt anyone cares enough to read it. i blame the pain killers i'm on. they make me feel rather detached from things. like i'm watching life instead of living it. i like this feeling. it's much safer. though, my teeth are still throbbing. but at least it's a tolerable throb right now. i'm gonna stop babbling. stop writing in here now. congrats to those who cared enough to make it this far. and goodnight.

So tomorrow comes another funeral. Another day where I dress up just to go sit with a dead body and listen to people talk about how wonderful the person was in life, even if they were no where near wonderful. Where tears are suppose to flow and you're callous if you don't. Kleenex's have become out sheilds, protecting our hurt from anyone elses and isolating ourselves within the crowd. Ever wonder why you're alone in the middle of a throng? It's simple. Because we've been taught that's the way to be. In ancient pagan times, funerals were lively. They would hold processions through town and have feasts and celebrate. Death isn't the end, its only a new beginning. Has tarot taught us nothing? If no one died, no one else could be born. It hurts to lose those close to us, it's soul wretching and can make you long for death as well. But it is only natural. You have to remind yourself of that. I never understood the point of a veiwing. You go to a formal room, walking around as quietly as possible to look at a dead body. To look at a corpse. Why would you want to look at that? It's no longer your mother or your sister or whoever you've gone to mourn. It's just their shell. It has no bearing on them anymore. I will never understand it. Nor believe in it. This entry is completely disorganized and probably makes little since. But I'll be honest here, I'm not in a very sound state of mind at the moment. 4 funerals in one year. It's unnatural. It's unfair. And I hate it. May's encroaching. I pray for the strength to make it through. First my birthday. 6 days. Then his birthday. 6 days. One year since he's been gone. I don't know if I have the strength to make it through....I just don't know.

I want to sleep but it eludes me so. Close my eyes and wait for tomorrow to come. I feel no joy in this day. All I can feel is pain, the tears sting my eyes as my cheeks grow wetter by the second. I still don't understand why it had to happen, why he was taken from me. It aches in ways I cannot describe. Sometimes I fear I will never be happy again. Perhaps this is karma for a crime I committed in a past life, punishment for an act I do not know of. I once knew joy and there was a time when my smiles where more than a mask, they were my daily routine. Now all I want to do is cry. Scream at a fate that is indifferent to me. Do I sabotage myself or do you do it for me? Nothing seems real anymore, outside of this gaping hole my heart has become. My emotions are cardboard cutouts, mocking me with their falseness. I remember a time when I felt as if nothing could go wrong, magic surrounded me and love was most precious. Now I feel discarded, like a tissue thrown into the garbage. Worthless little pile in the corner, overwhelmed by shame and despair. I wish I was invisible, my tears couldn't make a sound then. I hear sobbing, echoing around me and I pine for a way to make it stop. Useless, worthless, helpless, joyless. I am less and nothing more. My world is in shambles and I cannot fix it anymore. I'm destroyed, shattered into a million pieces and impossible to be reconstructed. Am I to live the rest of my life as a shadow of what I could be? It feels like such. I can't believe that anything could be right again. I can remember him so vividly. His voice and his laugh. The way his arms felt around me and then I was safe. Nothing mattered and no one could harm me. It didn't matter how bad things were or what was going wrong, he knew the magical words to make it feel perfect again. Now, nothing will ever be right again. It's all broken and I don't know what to do about it. I would give my soul for five more minutes with him. He was my world and then it was gone. I still remember the day as if it was yesterday. I was so scared. I didn't want to admit it but a part of me knew what was going to happen. But he told me it would be fine. He promised he would come home again. It was the first and last promise to me that he ever broke. I know that he couldn't stand the thought of telling me good-bye and I can't stand the thought of letting him go. I think about him everyday. I see him in my dreams and it hurts so much to know I'll never hold him again. I'll never feel his arms around me or his lips against mine. I'll never hear him whisper in my ear how much he loves me or listen to him yell at the video game. I'll see him smile or watch him sleep. I never smell him or taste him again. And I don't want to hear the cliche bullshit about how we'll be together again when I die. It doesn't help and it isn't true. I don't believe in heaven nor do I believe in hell. It's all a bunch of crap. It's Valentine's Day. It's the "day of love." It's my first one without him and knowing my luck, it wont be the last. I implore all of you who read this, tell the people that matter to you how much they mean, not just today but everyday and every chance you get. It might just be the last chance to ever get to see them again. Never be afraid to tell someone how you feel because they might feel the same way about you. Don't go to sleep mad, you never know if you're going to wake up with them the next morning. Don't say harsh words you don't mean, you may never get the chance to correct what you said. And never, I mean never, take anything for granted. It can be taken from you without warning and you'll be left to ache when it does. Love is to precious and life is to short. Much, much to short for some. And when its taken from you, minutes will seem like hours and day like months while you wish for it to come back.

What is fate? Some people believe that your path is predetermined from conception, that everything you are, and everything you do is set before you can even open your eyes. The obstacles you face and your reaction to them are beyond your control. I disagree, truthfully. I find the very idea of destiny to be laughable. Surely there are gods above and yes, they control events, but they can't control your reactions. We all have a choice. Before me lies two paths, shrouded in darkness. I choose which path to step onto but I have no control on where that path will lead. The control I hold over what is to happen next is an illusion, for once I make that choice, I am but a raft, being pulled along with the rivers current until another fork appears, bringing with it yet another decision. Is this what life was meant to be? A series of decisions with miles of uncertainty between them? "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." In life, nothing can be real. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream, maybe nothing I've done is true and I'm really lying in a coma, imagining this all whilst people weep over my true body, lying inert in the hospital. Perhaps the Matrix was true, and we do exsist in a computer program. Can anyone say for sure what this life is. A series of questions is all I ever hear but answers escape us all. Monks spend their entire lifes, shunning all of society to find inner peace and the answers to lifes questions, only to die alone and unknown in the monestary, buried upon the only grounds they've even known. Does this bring them any more happiness than life grants the rest of us? Every creature on this planet dies alone. For even surrounded by people, our deaths can only be described as a solitary act. We each see our own greetings, our own thoughts, that no one can else can even fathom. What does await us after death? Do we move onto "heaven" or "hell" and spend the rest of eternity in splendor or despair? Earth is hell. Life is hell. The Buddhists (as well as other religions) believe in the cycle of reincarnation. That karma delivers us from one life into the next, our souls recycled, and in the next life, we pay for the mistakes of our last. Thus, we live a life of shame and misery if we weren't righteous in our last. Perhaps death only brings blackness, eternally. We simply rot away and the concept of a soul is only an illusion. Seems to be a peaceful theory. No pain. No joy. Just eternal solitude. Surely we all hit points in our life where we can accept, even embrace, that theory. In the end though, all we have are more questions, and uncertainty, and pain. People say "there must be more to life than this." But I ask you, what if there isn't? What are you going to do then?

life is never the same, we shift and twist and turn in a current we can't control. i've heard it said that the mind twists and bends to deal with the horrors of life, but sometimes the mind shifts so much that it snaps in two. what happens after that? are you expected to continue moving on with life as if you're still the same as always? or is this snap what suicide is born from? can a snap heal? or is it permanent? this life is a mydrid of questions, that you'll never figure out the answers to but you just can't stop asking. shall i curl under a rock, protect myself by denying myself? if you open up to the good, are you really just asking for the bad? is there a way to get one without the other? it never rains, it always pour. good comes singular but bad comes in multiples. shouldn't it be the other way around? they say there is a heaven and there is a hell. i say they're wrong. this is hell. earth is our hell and we can't escape it. when we die, we just come back again. to try again. perfection is an unachievable dream. tell me why the single mother works three jobs and then cries herself to sleep at night because her children are still going without. tell me why the bum on the street corner is smarter than i, but shunned for not comforming. tell me why we drop bombs and then follow them with sandwiches. we take pity on our enemies? no, we do it to make ourselves feel better for destroying them. tell me why the pretty cheerleader cries herself to sleep because she's alone in the middle of the crowd, and the one she shuns for not being cool cries herself to sleep because she isn't the cheerleader. tell me why, we all die inside while we smile at the world. just tell me why.