Darkest of days

The streetlights were harsh on my eyes. The viciousness that passing people carried was enough to feed on fear. I was with someone, yet, I was so alone. These deep coal passed events were begging to be unheld. A bar called us in, reached out for us…so we entered.

As anyone else I sat there thinking, listening…observing. Somehow the hollowness of it all was killing me and this was not pure hazard. I tried to brush the thought of J. away, tried to forget his voice that kept on ringing in my mind. I drifted away.The girl who had kept me company so far spoke of many things, we had much in common yet we couldn’t relate. She was the type of understanding being who would have reached out into nothing had she known my entire life. But she was there…a friend with which to chase problems away.
The red wine had taken its toll on me, as I had not slept, not eaten, not lived for a while. Cigarette buts slowly dying in the ashes…reflected my life. Though I was passably drunk and willing to prevail in this deep dark depression in which I had sunken, I was still conscient. It was conscience that was eating my soul, tearing the layers of drugs… I forgot how much it hurts.
Wonderful ambience, wonderful company, wonderful place and wonderful booze : yet I was not part of that theatre sketch. Not part of that movie. Could my heart have died more suddenly than then? I think not.
Right where I was about to give up hope for the darkest of worlds, a man entered the bar. Mysterious…intriguing. Being the creature that I am, I could not resist to go to him…Yet something held me back, pulled me down to drown. I stayed seated.
Nevertheless, social horizons still expanded that night. Reached out for weed . Hypocritical drug, takes you by surprise…Numbs your body out yet promotes the convulsions within your mind. Promoted the hurt. Puppet of a lost desire, I was no longer who I was when I entered through that wooden door. The two men trying to sell their magical cure finally decided to give it to us in exchange of a mere beer. Interesting…Time did not fly by, it ripped through us all. Yet only a minority could feel its ravages. I was sitting, with people, drinking, thinking, dying. A joint, lying so innocently on our table, waiting to do its damage. I was but a puppet slowly decaying on a chair that tilted, as my dreams had tilted to a bitter end.
The mystery man walked so calmly in front of us, away and back to us. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact. Vampyre…He was one…

We decided to go smoke it…it was time… It was unlike me as I always had preferred being completely aware of my actions…but the pain was horrible, it was unbearable. Before I left the bar, I jotted my number and name on a paper, slowly walked to the Vampyre and gave it to him. Silently, retired to wherever it was I was going…Whether he’d call or not had not mattered to me, and still doesn’t…symbolic actions tend to cut through hate…
Wherever it was I was going, where it was WE we’re going…nowhere really as at that point no more realistic feeling could pass through my body » one toke, 2 tokes…the whole thing.
I was out of it…so was she. Lost within an unknown city, unfamiliar faces. Where would we go to return home? We knew not…we didn’t think, only kept on walking…
How I got back that night, how I stayed alive, I know not. Only hoped it was but one huge dream, unfortunately the vapours of booze and hangovers remained in me. Sickness within sickness. Why was J. still haunting me as I lied helplessly on my bedroom floor? why was the pain still there?
Drugs are somewhere to hide…
Happiness was never an issue, neither was life. Had I died that night I doubt it would have provoked much change. What can I be seeking when within me there’s everything that’s missing. No one kissed my fears away, no one fucked my pain away, I am just a puppet. Never was completed by this society’s complicity and I died, oh so often. Death will grip you from behind and rape you as bitterness will rape joy.
It’s funny how one person and the inconsideration he holds can destroy you. Had I the choice between living with a ghost, a vacant spot within my heart and dying, I’d much rather die…
Nothing much to look at when everything around you is but a hiding place. Nothing to utter this bleeding faith I had once in a man…nothing to hollow out my heart…give me a blade for nothing prevails… I have been sucked away in my own little world and only these words have penetrated to me:
“Who ever said love is blood and love is real has never felt the same way that I feel”
-Stabbing Westward, Haunting me (Darkest of days)