Chronicles of L. VonDeadly

Here, On The Ground.

Has the strangest sensation of spiritual unrest. That would be my status right now. Do you ever find yourself thinking in status language? While you are eating pistachio ice cream, in your head you think "...is eating pistachio ice cream." Yeah, I do that. Back to the spiritual unrest. That knot you feel in your stomach sometimes. Maybe when you're angry, or scared. I feel that now. But I have no reason to be angry or scared. Just constant anxiety. Heart racing, shallow breathing, butterflies in the stomach, insomnia-ridden anxiety. Unrest. Spiritual unrest. Pouring another drink helps. Sincerely saying out loud all the things that perplex me into the early hours of morning helps too. Dogs can't talk, thank God. I don't even know if they can listen either really, but an attentive yet silent audience far beats a barely listening loud mouth one.

I quit smoking two weeks ago. I started smoking again 13 days ago. It was a good process for me. I felt accomplished. Then the nagging urge to smoke a cigarette, have a cup of coffee, and bitch about my life just resurfaced and I decided that I like my life. Menthols and caffeine and sarcasm included. Then I began to reason with myself, since Chewy was sleeping and I didn't want to wake him. Who decides what a "bad" habit is? Is it bad because it feels good? Because it makes me feel better? That seems to be the only common denominator in all my vices. Smoking calms me down, and fills my body with toxins. [So does eating meat filled with hormones and chemicals.] Caffeine wakes me up, tastes good, and makes my body reliant on an outside substance. [So does taking aspirin, ibuprofen, cold medicine, etc. Which I don't take.] Sarcasm gives me an outlet to be a bigfatwhiner, and has the rare occurrence of pissing people off. If you think that time will change your ways, don't wait too long.

So, in light of the spiritual unrest, I embraced my vices back into welcome arms. One vice I've found that will never cease to MOISTen my soul, music. Not just any music, mind you. Songs that speak. Songs that use words to alter your entire thought process. I love it even better when finding them is a mistake. Something always brings me back to these songs. It never takes too long.

Cheers to the cheapest happiness. 5.49 - Menthol. 3.52 - Caffeine. Free - Sarcasm & Music.

Is It Dark In Here?

Or is it just me? Is your life easy? If you said yes, then you are a liar. I am faced with so much at once that I feel like it is shoving me off the deep end. I don't particularly want to go off the deep end currently. Honestly? I don't have the time or luxury of doing so. I really wish I could. I wish I could get away with running. Too many people and furry babies depend on me. There are all of these daunting responsibilities and I am all alone, trying to conquer them one at a time but so many things are falling through the cracks. I did so well for so long, but I am slipping. I am dangerously close to my boiling point and the only thing holding me back from it is pride.

You will learn to lose everything.

-A.M.

The Un-Thought Thought.

You will never know what the sensation of desperation feels like when it tingles over your cold skin at night. When you are so tired and your heart just can’t take anymore. Your brain over exerts itself and instead of overheating, goes frigid. And if you were to tell anyone exactly what you were desperate for, they would give you a look of horror and disgust and hope beyond hope that you were making some sick twisted joke. But the joke is on them. They don’t know. You don’t know. But I do. Sometimes I want to just say it out loud. But then, what if the one thing I sometimes want comes true? Why, then I will spend my life convinced that I willed it into existence and that would be a truth too difficult to carry. I would disappear. But carrying it around is clearly too difficult a burden to carry as well so what do I do? I can’t begin to say it out loud. I’ve never even fully thought it in my head. I just know that in the back of my mind, it seems like it would relieve me. I don’t wish this un-thought thought, truly. Out of desperation, it just naturally pops into my head as the solution. Logically my brain found the way in which my suffering can cease. I wonder if you’ve thought it. Some have thought about it, and it happened. Some haven’t thought about it and it happened. Some have thought about it and it didn’t happen. Which category will you fall in? What about me? Here I am, sitting cross-legged at the bottom of a well, and sometimes the ground upon which I sit begins to rise. I feel myself begin inched closer and closer to the light and warmth of the glow above me. Then it shudders to a halt, dropping my stomach and stopping my heart. My hopes diminish as I realize that maybe I will never get there. That’s when the vicious case of the chills sinks in, when the un-thought thought crosses my morbid mind.

 

I will carry on now, etching my sorrows in the dirt on the walls of my abyss. Hoping that it doesn’t happen, hoping I never not-think it again. And hoping, more than any other hope I can hope, that you come home safe.

Love Song For A Vampire.

These people I carry with me everyday and the burden is too much to bear sometimes.

It angers me that you affected my life the most. That I still think of you everyday. I avoid places and situations out of fear. I flinch and panic. How I could possibly fear you now is hard to understand. Yet I do. You've wasted away and your poor soul has been dying for years. Sometimes I wonder when I will get the call that you're dead. I don't think it would relieve any of this. It would almost be worse. I've never gotten the chance to sit in a room with you and tell you exactly what you did. I'm sure you've even done worse since, which leaves me with a feeling of guilt. And I pray your actions were relatively victimless. I've barely talked to anyone about you. I vaguely remember a hug from someone who at the time, meant the world to me. And all I wanted to do was laugh. Here was a vulnerable moment that I was sharing with the one person I held higher than anyone else and all I could do was smile. It felt incredible to relieve myself of the pressure of your existence. Then I told another. And another. And today, I don't smile when I speak of you anymore. Now I wince. I share my past and experiences with people around me, but I never reveal how I feel about them. I don't talk about it. I have to keep that part to myself. If I release that, I give them the power. And then when they leave I have nothing. People always leave. I've learned that. So I tell them about you, how vile and disgusting a point your life must have withered to, and I pray that through knowing me they will know you. And by knowing you, they will find that their sanctity of compassion is renewed.

You stopped making my heart race in a good way a long time ago. I'm sorry to tell you so. But I can't keep living with the passion that you're giving when it rips apart my already weakened soul. I have always given you an open door into myself and it's time to lock it and throw the key into the ocean. I can't stay with you in this game of cat and mouse any longer. You always were stubborn. I always was stubborn. Oil and water? No. Fire and ice? No. All the fire and destruction still burns in me and even scalding water couldn't erode what you've left me with. I do have a number of nights that will eternally hold a special place in my soul and for that I thank you. When I am on the other end of this life and I am retracing my hasty steps, I will remember you and smirk. Then I will crack open a fresh tube of cookie dough and breathe.

You forgot me. Tried to forget me? Didn't forget me? Wanted to forget me? Do you even know anymore? Was it all in my mind? You'll have to excuse me if it was, I often find that it is 6 days later than I thought and I have a vague memory of real life, and a vivid memory of the life I live in my head. All I need to know is that it was real. Even a minuscule part of it. I need to calm the angry voices in my mind that are telling me I imagined your existence. The idea that you exist, even if I may never see you again, is true relief. Give me relief. Just say yes.

Goodnight.

Night.

I try to sleep but the clock won't tick fast enough. Everything is unravelling in front of me. I don't want to waste another day keeping this inside. It is exhausting. Everytime you leave.

I climb the walls around you and as I get to the top and stand on the brink, all I can think to myself is why the hell did I climb up this high? Why didn't I give up. I am so good at giving up. I can't this time. I told myself I would fight the good fight and so here I am. Fighting whatever the fuck a good fight is. And I am constantly attacking anything that approaches me. All of this is in jest truly because even when and if I get to you, that means nothing, does it? Just because I can get to you doesn't mean I get you. I can track you down, I can find you. I can make everyone else disappear. I can make you want me and choose me and love me. But I don't want to. I just want it to be natural. I don't want to have to say the exact right thing and twist my hips just the right way so that you fall madly and uncontrollably in love with me.

...Alas, here I am chasing you down. Standing above your kingdom, waiting for you. Sensing for you. If I breathe in the air deep enough, I can smell you in it. Your scent carries. That intoxicating scent I memorized without even realizing it. Damn you. Everything is unravelling. I am unravelling. My string was pulled so taut this morning, I was waiting for a nice weeked of calm time with friends to recharge. Before the rest can even begin, I am blown apart. My life has blown apart.

FML.

Bedlam, Bath and Beyond.

I'm expecting too much. I'm through with the obvious. My mind is exploding into all these tiny pieces and this monster emerges and I can't control the monster like I used to anymore. It doesn't come naturally. I am going to eat you alive and suck you dry. Sorry. But you don't see me. You don't see me. I don't wanna dream about the things that never were. I can't handle that right now. I don't want to feel that. It would do me no good. I'll be okay. When I'm out from under. Trust me. My hands smell like strawberries. How can I decide what's right when you're clouding up my mind? I'm pulling out my hair. How did we get here? I used to know you. I don't know me. How can I know you if I don't know me. Fuck this. Do you see what we've done? We are gonna make such fools of ourselves. You don't see me. That's a damn shame. Keep me in your dreams. It's probably safer that way. It isn't ideal, but it's safer. The distance is safe. Arms length isn't nearly enough anymore. There is something I see in you, it might kill me. I want it to be true.

Pensieve.

I am draining my mind of thoughts and putting them into yours. Stab me in the chest and let my true desires come spilling out. I am going to use this crowbar I've so delicately placed beside me. Wrench it into the space between my second and third ribs. Left side. I am going to pop open my chest cavity. Let you take a look around. It is much easier than having to explain myself to you. That would take years, my love. You don't know. You don't want to know. Butterflies fly out and away. At first you think it's a sign that something beautiful lies within. Incorrect. They were escaping. Escaping, love. You'd think steam would come out too like in some scary robot movie. Not here. Here, venom starts to seep slowly out the bottom. I use the crowbar to wipe some of it up and I playfully jab at you. You aren't entertained. Understandable. I invite you to take a look around. Please don't be gentle. I like it rough. You can see the cancerous sections of my heart now? Can you see the dark glowing of my soul? No longer to burn clear. Experienced too much. Seen too much. You find the pile of dust at the bottom. My phoenix never reignited. Never rose from the burning embers in my chest. It was put out a long time ago by bad people. Who dimmed my soul and took the shine out of my eyes. I'm sorry you are paying for it now. That isn't fair. I take your hand and ask if you trust me. You do. Silly goose. I let you gently cup my heart. To see if your warm embrace feels any better inside than it does on the outside. It feels like the warmest warmth. The deepest burn. I poison you. It was an accident. Just a surface burn, I hope. Don't run. Please don't run from me. Nothing inside this head makes sense. That is why it doesn't come out. That is why I don't show you. Show anyone. I am alone in here. I have no company sweeter than yours, but in here it's always me. Just me. I wish you could join me. I wish there were room for two. There isn't even room for one. I'm trapped in here. Doomed to spend eternity rotting up here. And that is when you back away. You cradle your damaged hands. You shake your head. A single tear streams down your cheek, and I understand. I know the dark is scarily quiet. I know the slow dripping is scary. That's okay. I understand. I'll just close this chest of mine back up and move onto the next poor soul, if you don't mind. I'll visit. We can pretend this never happened. Yeah, love you too.

Tightrope Walking In Combat Boots.

Cockily capering again. [If you were wondering.] I feel extraordinary. Completely unlike myself, if you know anything about me. I myself am quite extraordinary but I rarely feel that way. I am energized and resourceful and completely on top of everything I need to get done. Who the fuck am I and where is Lauren? That's what I want to know. Not that I miss being a lazy fuck who watches, in order, The View, Las Vegas, Without A Trace, A Wedding Story, What Not To Wear, and Charmed. All the while making food that is not very good for my health and texting like a madwoman. I mean, really really sad existence on my part, but at least it came naturally. I am not a errand-runner. I do not do things on time. I have suddenly been magically imbibed with this sense of dutiful need to get a million things done. To make new shirts, and send more packages, and change the headlight, and keep all family updated on army things, and get educational games for my students, and play with the dog, and look adorable, and get my AA online, and keep in touch with friends across the world, and balance finances, and completely redecorate the living room, and find at some point the time to shower and eat a full meal. It seriously usually would take me a year to finish all of that. I don't do deadlines. I think doing things on someone else's time clock is overrated. But here I am sitting and finishing my term paper while planning everything I'll do tomorrow. Like go paint shopping, and get a canvas for the living room, and organize my decorating list, and get the car washed, and buy treats for another package....it just doesn't end. And at times I wonder if I am creating this web of things to do to keep me from falling. If I run around with this string attached I will create a safety net. Where I am too busy to fall apart. Where I can't cry now because a song came on the radio, the people in the store will look at me funny. So this intricate web I've spun below me is thick, but not strong. I've succesfully created enough distractions to create the illusion to myself and everyone around me that I have got it together. But the time when the web can relax is the night. When I lay my head down and sleep never comes. When I wake up every hour. Heart pounding, sweat beads on my skin. And what do I do? I drink a cup of coffee, eat a few crackers, and start my list again. And as I walk out the door, I tug on the loose ends of my web to make sure they've got me. Because if they don't, I will fall. And I'm so sick of falling. So sick, in fact, that I will ignore the knowledge I've lain here. I will tuck away the realization that I am not handling life as securely as I thought I was. And I will slide the lipstick on, the kind that makes my smile brighter. And I will hope no one sees that it is frozen to my face. And I will hope no one sees the bulge in my purse of my web folded up neatly, no ends left dangling. I'm more than cockily capering now, I'm tightrope walking in combat boots.

Dr. VonDeadly

Leaving never feels good. Maybe that's why I have such a hard time making up my mind. Either way I have to leave at some point. The fact is, I don't want to ever have to say goodbye again. I don't care that reunions are among the most beautiful moments in time. This leaving part is too horrendous to be worth it. It's so hard to please everyone so I leave feeling drained. I gave all my energy into making sure no one was worried about me. And the time to grow up starts now. No one is going to walk me through this. There is no guide manual. I am instead pushed into this world, cold. Naked. Alone. Confused. So to chase that pain away, I run as fast as I can. Far from the pain of the goodbyes. I can't keep running. My thighs are burning, my knees are popping, and honestly my heart is sick of being on needles and pins. Waiting for the inevitable to take hold. I don't wish this upon anyone, truly. Nobody knows my sorrow. I could probably take charge, step up. Stop letting it happen to me and have it simply be a reality. Take the bull by the horns and show the fucker who is boss. That is all well and fun but I simply cannot. The ache is too much to bear and allowing myself to feel anymore at this point would be considered suicide because it would kill me. I would unleash it I cannot do that. I retreat again.

Ah, the comfort and safety inside insanity. Do you know what it's like to burst into tears and feel so out of control you want to bury yourself in the snow because the cold might stop you from sobbing? Do you know what it's like to swallow tears and feign strength daily? Hourly? Do you know what it is like to have mounds upon mounds of advice and have it all be piles upon piles of shit? To fear drinking and drugs you used to enjoy because your mind is so fucked up you're scared you will never wake up? To half-consider it because it would end the sadness? Do you know what it's like to close your eyes and wish you would go more crazy? Because then maybe the doctor would give you something to dull the pain? I can see the advertisements now. "Sick of being in that inbetween zone, not quite sane and not quite psycho? Dr. VonDeadly will fake the Xanax prescription for you. You are welcome!" How about to fear yourself. Do you know that feeling? To wake up each morning and think, self, what can you do today to further fuck up your wellbeing? Do you know what it feels like to be clawing and clawing at the hole above you, full of sunlight. When all you are really doing is pulling more and more dirt inside the hole, and not filling it up but rather burying yourself alive?

Yeah, me either.

Shadow Room

Behind these doors, are the stories of lovers past. Where warmth is merely a memory. Here, broken spirits roam in the hopeless abyss of heartache, knowing nothing of time and of space. If you dare to enter, you will be lost between a realm of shadow and substance. If yesterday is what you want, then yesterday is what you’ll get. As you cross the thin line between reality and the onyx zone.