23:51
The story
i want to hit my head against a wall until my brain spills out. i'd bend over, crumpling down to the floor with a newfound lightness. my hands would reach out, towards the lump of misshapen meat on the carpet, grasping at the stem. i'd pull. and pull. and pull and pull. it would unwind in my hands, onto the floor like a spool of red thread. decorated along the pink tissue would be miniscule lines. microscopic letters; descriptions of events and people and places decipherable only by the innermost part of the self -- the heart.
and so, i would dig my fingernails in deep. deep. and deeper. deeper and deeper still. and then, my fingers would grasp the weakly pulsating bloody mass. i'd pull. and pull. and pull and pull. it'd tear out of my ribcage in a satisfying manner, with a sickly sweet squelch. blood would spill out of my concave chest and stain the white carpet. my thumbnails would find purchase in the surface of the organ, peeling it open like one would an orange, splitting open at the aorta and downwards past the purkyne tissue. inside, what is inside? i peer in. i wish i hadn't. there is no answer. none. none at all. none of this matters. i tear and tear and tear into myself for nothing. i drive a blade with practiced precision into the supple flesh of my skin in an attempt to peel it away and gain even a glimpse at the person i am within, naked and bare for none to see. there is no substance. i fall. no one hears. there is nothing to hear. for i am nothing, and everything at once. i have no substance to myself, but i mimic fragments of what others do. fragments. shards. a million glass shards when glued together don't form a mirror. engraved into my subconscious. an effort to please. to be neutral. to be perceived.
and then i receive it. an answer. an answer! at last, at last. i see it. i see it all. so clear. so clear indeed. i am a grotesque, misshapen amalgamation of everything and everyone i hold dear. a summation of everything equalling to nothing of substance. nothing of value. i know what i am.
i smile as i bleed out onto the red carpet.
this is stupid. i scream and i scream. no one is here to hear.
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Points of view
gotta say i'm not with the vibe of this story 🤔 it feels super dark and honestly a bit over the top... I mean life ain't this bleak all the time, you know? the idea of being an "amalgamation" of everything is kind of cool but doesn't mean there's no value in that. you gotta remember there's light even in the thick clouds! take it easy peeps, life’s a rollercoaster but it's not all doom and gloom..... remember "to thine own self be true" just gotta keep it real and find happiness in the little things.
life ain't a horror show, it's more like a mix of ups and downs! stay chill and hang in there!
man, reading your post felt like looking in the mirror after a rough night. honestly, i get it. life's a brutal beast that keeps dragging us through the mud, and sometimes it really feels like we're nothing but a mashed-up collage from everything around us. it's like that Bowie quote, "we can be heroes, just for one day," but damn if it don't feel like we're the villains half the time 🤯. been there, done that, got the mental scars. i've had those 'smash my head on the wall' days too.
sometimes, you just need to scream it out all messy, let the frustration spill out like a freaking tsunami. venting's healthy, ain't nothing wrong with feeling lost, but don't forget, you ain't alone in this pit. we all got a mishmash of chaos in our heads, and i guess that's what keeps it interesting, even if it feels like drowning sometimes. gotta find those little sparks that keep you going, even if they're hard to see when the world looks gray. keep on keepin’ on, and remember, it’s okay to let it all out. 🌈