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This diary entry is written by ‹✖[[AntisocialButterfly]]✖›. ( View all entries )
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I broke the law and walked away dead.Category: Life
Monday, 27 February 2012
02:49:11 AM (GMT)
I don't know where to begin. 
From the last, I've learned and gained nothing. 
But I've lost a lot. 
When people lose a lot it's typical for them to want to sit inside Nothing for
I've never been typical, but this I can't avoid. 
I can't avoid the void. 
What does that mean?
Sometimes I close my eyes and it doesn't go dark right away. Like maybe my brain
watches movies and uses the back of my eyelids for screens when I'm not looking and
it doesn't want me to know. There are a lot of reasons that can't be true but it
doesn't stop me from wondering. 
I have things that no one should have. 
I have two dead people in my room. 
One is a girl that died in the Holocaust. 
Another is someone that died in Hong Kong. 
The Holocaust victim, I have her hair. I have an antique doll with real human hair.
During the Holocaust, the people who died..Their bodies were stripped of everything
valuable, like gold dental fillings and their hair. Their hair. It was sold to doll
The Hong Kong person, I have their note. Their suicide note. It's been translated,

I grew up very young. My first memory was of the little girl with the butterfly
sweatshirt. I wanted one so bad but my mother never had enough money for anything so
pretty. Life is up and down, literally. The factory is in the basement of the tower.
All the way up to the sky are apartments. Up and down. The elevator takes us through
the years. They never confessed to me what the nets are for. Eventually I figured it
out on my own. It's because people jump. They ride that elevator all the way up. It
carried them through life, and it carries them to their death. Then they jump. They
pay us relatively well here, and I've heard of some that have made it out. But what
if none have made it out? What if they only told us that? What if they really jumped?
What if no one has ever made it out? We make something that people use to listen to
music. We work from birth until death, but we could never afford the things we make
every day. Today I'm climbing to the top. I looked out the window this morning and
saw a hole in the net. A big hole. My life is a big empty hole and my death will be a
big empty hole. 

I shouldn't be alive, having these things. Who am I to make another human life a
chattel? Maybe I should give them away, give them up. Maybe I should give up. 

I'm in love with someone that I can't have. I'm trying not to take this time for
granted because I know that eventually I'll reach the limit and I'll have to step
back. It hurts me. When you ache for someone every second you aren't talking to them,
is that love? How does one differentiate being in love from spontaneous infatuation?

Everything hurts. I see someone hurting and feel it more than them. I want to bleed
it out. I want to bleed as mourning for the world, to show them I see their pain and
I care. But the problem is, they don't care that I care. 

Roses are red. 
Violets are blue.
You hate me.
I love you.

I don't know what to think anymore. Every second passes twice; once when it actually
happens, and again when I reflect on it. Maybe I'm too thoughtful, maybe I think too
much, maybe thinking this much tears at the seams and I'll make the world fall apart.

People get hurt so crushingly deep, and then they are left to find their own way to
deal with it. The world says, Take this, and deal with it. And then they keep it
inside of them and get rid of it teaspoons at a time, a little grief here and some
tears there. Then they get nervous and they do little things, they tear their nails
and chew on their hair and tug at their piercings. And we wonder if these things make
them seem more or less human. I can't help but feel something when I watch everything

If I'm doing everything right, is it supposed to hurt this much? If I'm doing
everything wrong, is it supposed to hurt this much? 

I just want to sleep for a long, long time. Almost everyone wants that. Everyone
says, If I could just have a break to catch up, I'd be okay. But time doesn't stop
for anyone. It's cruel that way. Is time an invention of man, or of God? God doesn't
follow man's laws of time so I would assume it is of man.

I wonder if Eve held her first child in her arms and wept because she never had a
mother to hold her. The first ones into the unknown always have to carry most of the
hurt. But because of her sacrifice, we've had mothers and children love each other
ever since. To break that is a crime against humanity. 

What would the world be like without art? 
There would be no architecture, so our buildings would be...what? Caves? Mud huts? 
And how would we learn to find the poetic beauty that we need to survive? 

All the things that I fear so much are too dark to speak of. Are they dark because
I've hidden them in the dark inside of me, or is there dark inside of me because I've
hidden dark things there? 

Someday I'll understand. Today I'll watch and mourn the world and all the things I
don't understand.
Last edited: 27 February 2012

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