Demonic

From his veins blood escaped

Desperately gasping for a breath.

The burning convulsion seeping out from his chest.

"What have I done," he asked.

The thoughts made no sense.

"Where had he gone," his friend guessed.

Determination and an evil grin on his face

He laughed as he asked for assists.

"I'm gonna make these boys be missed."

And all three came together, but only two left.

That fateful phone call made

And their mother wept.

His life, like a dying rose, now withering away.

Now the promise of life is betrayed.

Written by: Jena K Valiante

In Loving Memory of Andrew & Matthew Bohannon

-Gone Too Soon-

Name

Blank - like this sheet of paper - that's how my mind is.

I always have such great intentions before starting these and once I get to the point of being able to write, I can't.

---

Everything I say turns out to be the same thing said over and over again.

• I'm tired.
• I'm sick.
• And more ultimately: I'm sick of being tired and tired of being sick.

---

I understand the how on why I have no money, but what I don't understand is how I got from point A to point B.

"'Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose get tossed along the way."

Honestly, I could quote the entire song since it relates to me and my situation.  Songs always amaze me being that not one of them was specifically written about me, but so many of them would be so easy to say that they were.

---

My ability, or now inability, to write poetry pisses me off.  I used to easily be able to pick up a pen and paper and mentally vomit words across a page like it was nothing;  the only issue I had was coming up with a title.  Now I can come up with a title and a subject but no words or thoughts come out.  My minds is stuck inside my skull and I just want little pieces to break off and escape.  It feels so good when I am able to do that and that's why I write.  My problem is once I start, I don't want to stop; and I'm always at a place where I have to stop.  So, maybe I'll write on a weekend, when noone is around.  Maybe that will allow me liberta mentale.

........ and breathe...........

Mind-Blown

It's not about life and death anymore.. now it's about tragedy, which is all this place has, and has had, to offer.

I just want out; and I want out before I want out on life.

Lately, I've been infatuated with death, pain, and loneliness.  It's a sickness, really, and it's a sickness not easily overcome.  It's like being trapped in a torture system, but with no escape.  There's no button one can push that says, "stop".  Sure, I can medicate myself, but then hours later, I need more; and God forbid if I run out, because that only sparks the anxiety trigger even harder.

Here's how my life goes right now:

Sure there are triggering factors with these two things, but ultimately one thing leads to the other.

• I can't eat, because my nerves lead me to have no appetite.
• I can't sleep, because my anxiety leaves me restless all night.
• I can barely even think clearly, because I am so stressed out about both of these things.

I need help, but only on my account.  There's also a specific help I want.  I don't want someone to tell me to, "tell me how you're feeling."  If I genuinely knew how I was feeling, I could probably fix my issues, but I don't, and that's why this is so dangerous.

I just want it all to go away, whatever "it" may be.

Wide Awake

By that I don't mean like, hey it's 3 am and I am just rolling over and can't sleep.. NO, I mean I am wide awake spiritually and emotionally.  I just spent a good long 30 minutes meditating.  I was sitting by the river on the back deck of my job and just had a huge awakening when I was in the middle of thought and someone said something that sparked a "sad nerve" of mine and I realized: THAT IS MY SOLUTION.  That is why I cannot focus and why I can't think.  It's why my mind is so clouded with such garbage that I can't even spit out words sometimes.  I am so focused on the negativity that I am killing myself.  I'm not saying literally killing myself, but mind-wise.  I am tearing myself apart and for what?  I have no reason.  And I find it kind of ironic that I was able to come to this conclusion being that I am a very positive person.  I always look for the best in things and even when dealing with others, I'm able to present a more positive thought and shed a happier light on their situation.  It's never as bad as it seems.

My mind literally feels euphoric right now.  Like it's having a mental orgasm and this feels so good.  I am legitimately smiling a true, hardcore smile.  I feel my body waves crashing all over into me like I am a free spirit and could fly away at this very second.  This is the most beautiful thing I've ever done for myself.

All of this stemmed from the reaction to writing this.

Mental Purge

<Begin Thought>

The thing about thoughts is you never know what the next one might be and the reasoning behind it sometimes makes sense, but sometimes it doesn't  Sure you can plan on the subject matter you'd like to think on, but as far as what thoughts will come, you never know.  Thus the following:

Your thoughts turn into your emotions and when your thoughts are wrong, the feelings experienced with such can be detrimental to you.  Even worse than all of this is the fact that no-one knows your thoughts.  Sure they can relate to them and have similar thoughts, but ultimately, they will never know the full extent of it.

This is what I like to call a mental purge.  I'm actually handwriting this, so while the usual back-of-the-mind thought is "look and listen to how fast I'm typing," writing just takes time, which allows you to ponder even deeper into thought.  It's sort of like reading.  You focus on the words and you're forced to analyze what is actually going on; the spelling, the grammar, the apostrophes, the dotting of the Is and crossing of the Ts.

I don't really even have a reason for this except to verify that I still have the ability to form and purge my thoughts.  I'm so unsure of myself lately and nothing makes sense anymore.  My whole life is just one big blur.  If I had an endless cash flow now, I'd stop working for a good month and go to a secluded cabin.  I'd do this so my mind would just flood with thoughts.  I would love to be overwhelmed in thoughts, just not by them.  Too many times I take one idea and it expands into this huge non-existent scenario in my head that scares the shit out of me.

I don't even know what's going on and nor do I care.  I've learned to let go and realize the whole world is not looking at me.  I am a speck; a very, very small speck and there are days I wish it was actually real to the point of being non-existent.  I do not want to be or exist anymore.

I just don't want anything.

<End Thought>

This is the actual hand-written note: