Dedicated to: everyone who needs a pill to fall asleep but has to be forced awake.
There are no secrets while you're dreaming.
This is only a dream. I dont dream in colors. I dont dream in black and white. I dream in symbolism. I dream in ways that make you think. Ways that would give you a headache. These are the things that come easily to me. Imagine dreaming about all the things you dont understand. Now imagine dreaming about the things only you can understand. That is what this is. This is all the things we hide. I do not expect you to know what this means. This is something I've never told anyone. This is who I'm not, who I want to be and who I am. This is what I use to see while I slept. I'd wake up in a sweat.
The girl in this story is you. She is all of us. This is you at your most honest. This is you as you lay awake at night playing the day through your head, thinking about what you should've done or said.
This is the girl in my dreams that I'm afraid to become because I know she's there. I know she's inside of me waiting to let her out. Waiting for me to close my eyes. She is the person who lacks self-control. This girl is who you never had to wish for, you only had to learn to bring her out and control the situation because she is always there. Her main purpose is vengeance. She's inside of you too. Are you afraid?
I've analyzed this over and over. This is what I've come up with:
This is the story about the girl in you dreams who has the power to do everything you can't. She is your bad side. The side that resorts to violence and power when things dont go her way. She is the part of you that you wish you could be more like but you keep her inside and hid her from the world. She is a part of every one of us which makes it stranger that we are all afraid of her. Afraid of what your real feelings are. She is the voice in your head. She is the ugly part of the beautiful and the beautiful part of the ugly. This is the girl who sees the world for what it is and not for it's lies. She does something about it. She doesnt let them get away with it. She thinks that even temporary calmness is a waste of good, sweat revenge. She is the urge in everyone that we keep hidden just behind our eyes inching it's way to the surface but never breaking through. The part that is waiting to self-destruct. She is who we dont even reach to as a last resort. She is the skin on your limelight, the core of your apple, the crust on your bread. She is the part that you toss out and disregard. Alcohol helps her break through the fibers in your mind that keep her hands tied. She is your damaged teeth after a night of grinding them. She is every last tear you hold back. She is every person you dont want to run into. She is who every word of graffiti, in the bathroom stalls, is about and written by. She is the one who writes your diary because she is the only one who will tell the truth about your secrets. She is the poster child of 'what not to do'. She is the pill you forgot to take.
She started getting stronger to the point where life support wasnt needed. She only lies less hopeless and more capable of turning over. Finally a walk through the halls of the hospital lacking the smell of cleanliness. Thick aroma of permanent marker seeps under the bathroom door. (The smell of everyone's secrets.) Potent enough to fight her way back through the streets back "home" to play nice. Becoming more explosive with every step. She focuses on every distraction that makes up the entire world. This creature slowly breaking through your safeguards. Your conscience was never strong enough and as of right now looks as if it never existed. Every single worldly situation and possession infuriates her. Every thing bothering her finds its way to distraction as she walks by. More damaging then Carrie could ever accomplish. Hands nearly broken free she enters your life once again.
Walking through the doorway of your house. You can't stop her. She is part of you. Right now she is the dominant part. Dementia in her eyes. The ties around her wrists loosen as she struggles to break free. You can say no warnings as your mother greets her warmly offering a hug that she is obligated and expected to return. Like a question that you already know the answer to. You trying to keep your shared hands tied. They are the last restraint you have on her. She walks straight past to the room you are now sharing. She leaves notes to in the front of all your books telling you what they mean to you. Rummaging through your stuff keeps her occupied as she's forcing her way out of the bondage: your mind. As her strength begins to fade away she gets closer to being free. Your brick walls and bars now disappeared from consciousness. She has taken over, you will not remember that it is you doing the events following this very moment. You have lost control. The pen is in her hand now. She will write your story, leaving you to read it in third person.
Your mother did not know what she was getting herself into but she knew something wasnt right. Your mother making her way to your bedroom. All you can do is sit back and watch. You are the cameraman. No, not even that. You are the audience watching the film. You have no control over anything. The doorknob turns slowly as your mother enters the beginning of your nightmare. The girl looks up focusing her eyes past you to your mothers. She forces your mother out with her eyes and locks the door. She keeps rummaging through your things that are, at that moment, her things. She waits for the sun to set. She settles things in the dark where your secrets are hidden. Your things are now all graffitied with your innermost thoughts that you never wanted anyone to know. She is your honest side, your morbid side. She does the things that you think of in your mind as revenge that is impossible in the physical world. She doesnt think. She acts on instinct, your instinct. Her eyes are glazed over, staring with a blank expression like she has only one purpose: retribution. The kind inside of you that you have tried so hard not to let out. Her hair is untamed like she has been through an eternity of restless nights.
The sun falls and everything sets into darkness. Schemes set into motion. The last restraints have vanished from your mind. She is completely in control. She is the pilot of your thoughts, the navigator of your body. You simply sit motionless unable to intervene wondering why you ever thought of such horrible things to come of your loved ones. The only thing you can do now is cry nothing but dry tears and feel your hatred and sorrow simultaneously as your skin starts getting a light layer of sweat evenly spread over your entire body. It's like one of those dreams where you cant move you legs only you are moving your legs you just cant control them. You aren't you. You have the power to stop this. Just wake up. But you dont want to. She wants revenge and you are sadistic enough to let her follow through. Everything inside you that wants her to stop has traded places with you and now you are right behind the eyes.
She walks slowly through the door in pitch darkness. She makes her way to the kitchen snatching the nearest fork. Your mother in the glow of the flickering television, asleep with a lit cigarette barely being held between the fingers of your mothers right hand that is completely limp. Your mother only smokes them on cold nights because your mother claims the afterglow keeps her warm.
She holds the fork in hand making her way (without hesitation) to your mother. Your tears coming from her eyes. The smoke drops startling your mother awake. Seeing you but not noticing the look of non-expression or no remorse in her eyes. Pondering why she is standing there watching your mother sleep seemed like too much effort because of your mother's tiredness. Turning over to go back to sleep was your mother's mistake. Fork: now in the air in preparation for stabbing. She makes her way to your mother. Someone you love. Someone who made revenge not seem worth it anymore.
Downward motion. In a second your thoughts become your mistakes. The fork penetrates your mothers skin. Thoughts rush through your head: How to stop this, will you be next. Your perspiration thickens. Fingernails on a chalkboard, the fork scratches the bone. Thoughts of what you want to do to punish the monster that has taken over your body go through your mind. You try to push them out before they reach her. It's too late. Her eyes click into a new gear. The fork goes straight from your mother's arm to your arm. You wince and flinch. You dont feel the pain but your mind tells you that you do so you scream out. But
it's one of those. No one can hear you. Your mother is crying out for help. She tapes your mother's mouth shut. (Something you've wanted to do for years) All the things that you've ever wanted to do pass through your mind. You can't stop it. It's an involuntary reaction. But the pain of trying to stop is like breathing in razorblades. Your veins filled with thorns of a rose. You see motive change in that same expressionless face. She is gone. She leaves the room. She is everything you hate but everything you want to be. You know where she's going but you can't stop it
Your mother, now with a hammer in her head, lays lifeless and motionless. You hated those cigarettes. A death like this for a simple meaning like that. There is now a new meaning for smoking kills you. More of what you fear crawls out from deep within you. You have just given your closest family and best friends a death sentence. You need to gain control. You need to stop this mental breakdown. Paralyze it. Stop wanting and yearning to follow through on the actions you wish to take. You are the lines in the road she is the drunk driver. You have to keep her from driving any further.
Trying to force yourself awake to stop the pain you realize you have to let this play out. You were meant to either stop this or finish it. If you wake up now it will start again at the place you left off. Like a paused tape. If you dont stop this story, this massacre, it will start over again when you close your eyes. You have no option. Intervening is critical. Thats how you stop her. Thats what you assume. You have to break into her psyche to gain control of yours. You have to show her who the boss is. Manipulate your way back into this unreality that is more real then anything you have ever known, in this world or any other. You are the anchor, this place is the void of rocks, and she is the repercussion of not latching to them. She is the consequence of your thoughts and now your thoughts have to be strong enough to stop her. To seize her next action. You have to be everything you couldnt be without her. You need to reconsume your mind.
She makes her way down the street to her next target. Fate awaits all of the worldly things she passes, the same as the ones before. Next in line: your best friend. What did you want to happen to her? All of the things you ever thought go through your mind. Snip your best friends tongue out, she talks too much. Oh God.
You figured it out. You have to get revenge on her. You have to use the power you dont have, the reason you need her. You have to stop her with your mind. You have to make up a revenge, a punishment, for her, for yourself. She acts out your instincts. What could you see you doing to stop yourself? She is not only who you are but now she is what you have to stop. How do you stop yourself when you are at your most passionate? How do you out smart yourself?
You have no reflection. She is who you see in the mirror. Reckless and afraid of nothing. Is this image of an alternate universe? Have you opened a portal or is this a symbol of who you are? Only time will tell. In your mind images of tying her hands behind you back again take over smothering thoughts of everything else. You force her hands together. You force her back behind your eyes holding her there as she takes her previous roll inching her way back to the surface. You dont destroy her. You could never destroy her. You only put her back on life support for another time.
She is waiting for you to fall asleep again. She is waiting for the next chance she gets to plague your mind. She's waiting to take over. Waiting for a slip of the tongue cause thats all she ever was, thats all you can ever let her be. Nothing more can come of this. You need to learn the will power and strength it takes to bring down the part of you that you respect the most. To stop the part that is your true self but that is completely out of your character at the same time.
The truth is you're scared of yourself. Scared of the only real thing you are. You're living a lie.
This was only an illusion. A figment of you imagination. You are still sound asleep begging your mind to wake you up but stuck in this never-ending cycle of your minds hallucinations. This is where you are at your "purist". We are all hypocrites of ourselves. This is where you want to be. This is who you look up to. You learn more about yourself while you're asleep then you ever could anywhere else. Dont wake up and dont fall asleep. Stay somewhere between.
There are too many pills that I take to forget you but not enough to keep you trapped inside.