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Rated: E · Other · Other · #2063386
keeping those fingers warm for NaNoWriMo
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't push you out. I even did a total 180 and gave not trying a go. Ignoring you was absolutely hopeless as well, it only made me annoyed. There is absolutely no point in ignoring someone that pretends they don't notice that you are ignoring them. The more I fought this, the more I felt like a child. There was no way I could keep my dignity, if I ever had anything like it. Nothing satisfied me.
So I was caught in this strange place. No use in trying to walk away, it wasn't right to stay, and I couldn't hide. So what I finally decided to do, as futile as it seemed, was to start processing my feelings by recording them. I tried all kinds of mediums, and for a brief rare moments I could be relatively calm just experimenting and exploring. Of course the backlash was horrendous. The waves of anxiety rose higher still the more I interpreted and created. But once I set it in motion, there was no stopping it.

In the beginning I was all fired up, threw myself from one high cliff after another. Doing this got me bruised up real good. I could hear the echoes from some part of me that thought I deserved to get punished. For what? God knows. Fortunately this part of me wasn't very dominant and soon got overpowered by the much more proficient 'no fucks given' part of me. Now, not giving a shit could be assumed to be a incredibly passive state of mind. However, in my case, what it actually did was to tear down any walls or obstacles that would hinder me from crusing 150 kilometers per hour cigarette lit top down music on full blast. I wouldn't say I'm a destructive person as such. I think a much more fitting description would be that I get bored incredibly fast. And I like shiny new things. So how I could spend so much time obsessing over one person is truly fascinating to me. With everything else, I needed, I craved, change. I would spend hours of intense dedication fully devoting myself to one task, then turn cold hearted about it and leave for the next excitement. Like this I threw myself from one project to another. However, when it comes to you, I never seem to tire. I admit I want to leave. The power my feelings have over me is fearful indeed. But even if I could leave, to what dimension could I possibly go to hope to escape myself. I love you so deeply that there is no part of me that isn't involved. So, I suppose, I might as well stay. By reasoning I can reach this conclusion easily every time I get any sort of doubt or feel discomfort about where I'm at. If only reason would get through to me in times of emotional shitstorms.
After a while I got more deliberate with my outbursts. Knowing better what I was about to go through once the emotions started to stir, I could better control the direction and speed of the escalation. Even further in the process I learned to drift and actually enjoy myself. Letting go of the ground was easy enough once I came to terms with it. Resisting, no doubt, would make things a whole lot more painful.

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