Like an infection

1.49 AM, Jonkoping, Sweden

Dear diary,

Never thought I'd open up these dusty virtual pages again. Never thought I'd need to hear your voice echo through the empty halls of my mind. It wasn't supposed to be like this again, remember? I called it quits, I bailed out. I abandoned you before it was too late. And now I'm here, back on my knees, praying for someone to make the pain go away. It's no difference this time, yet it is different in a way. That feeling of numbness weighing down on me, suffocating me slowly, erasing every ray of light, and leaving only darkness behind. Complete, utter darkness. I live my life as a corpse, an empty shell of a man that was once so full of dreams, so full of hope... no more. I seem to have reached another turning point, or is it a dead end? I can't tell anymore.

I'm losing my grip. People slip out of my hands, out of my life, out of reach, out of sight. It's not that I don't know why - I know damn well why they leave - only the fact that I can't do a damn thing about it. Helpless, once again. I can't let anyone into my heart, into my mind, or into my soul. I just can't. Once they're inside, they'll hurt me like all the others, leave me broken down, defenseless. I have no other option, what I want to do has no effect on my mind, since it has made a decision. Letting people too close only hurts. That's why they leave. A hopeless crusade. A closed case. A waste of time. I can't feel what they feel. Can't see what they see. Can't force myself to take interest in any of them, except for the ones that appeal to my twisted side, and when they become out of reach, I rage. Rage at everything, a wrath that is uncontrollable, unstoppable, and leaves me with yet another lost friend. If I keep doing this, there won't be anyone left at all.

Time is drawing near, my dear. Didn't I tell you? Didn't I fucking tell you? You piece of shit. Worthless piece of shit. Ya really think anyone would want to be close to you? You said it yourself, you can't open your heart. It's closed. And it has been for a long time, I should know... I threw away the key. Embrace your fate, and stop whining.

I've given up hope once again. Nothing I thought would save me has been able to make any difference at all. I'm still here, square one. Haven't achieved anything since last time you heard from me. I know, I know, I promised myself I'd let go of all this drama... and just try to live without all this bullshit. Turns out it has become such a big part of me that I can't ignore it. It's almost like it's become a bigger part of me than myself. Like a cancer, mercilessly growing inside of me, twisting and mutilating my cells, turning them into broken shadows of my old self. Every time I close my eyes, everything starts spinning. I see my end drawing closer, fast. People leaving. People getting tired of not getting through. And all I can do is watch, almost like a horror movie. Why still hold on when you've already started falling?

Once again, dear friend... I told you so. There's never been anyone else but you and me. The memories? To hell with the memories, they're only scars that want to make themselves heard and bleed through again. They'll always be there, 'cause you're not making any new ones. You'll always be nostalgic, always wanting to reach out into the past and grab that shining light that was once your soul. Well, it's gone now, isn't it? It's just you and me, pal... you and me.

Until the bitter end.

Thanks for the memories

00.30 AM, Jonkoping, Sweden

Dear diary,

This breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. I've left my only comfort behind, let it slip right out of my hands. I can't stop shaking. Can't stop thinking. Just because I can't give her what she deserves, doesn't mean some other asshole is allowed to do it.

Somehow I feel like this is going to end with you having the time of your life together with someone you truly love, while I get stuck and left behind. Desperately wishing I didn't make this decision. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

"You can't break a heart that's stopped beating."

Dust devils and cosmic storms

11.21 PM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,

I'm sitting here with all the lights out, a couple of lit candles and a cup of tea. Trying to make it into some kind of evening ritual before I go to bed, to gather my thoughts and write something here. Today has been alright, left school before lunch today since I had nothing to do so I could as well go home and "study"... not much studying has been done, of course. Did some cleaning, way too dusty in here, and I'm beginning to think I'm allergic to dust, and it sucks... It means that it affects my singing, and since I'm already allergic to pollen it also means that I'm walking around with a running nose 360 days a year. Shit's fucked up.

I think I need to start reaching out for people more, instead of staying inside my shell to protect myself. I'm having trouble inspiring myself, or finding things that inspire me, perhaps there's some people out there who are able to light a fire inside me again? I can think of a few candidates already, people I've been talking to for a while, but never met. I've been stuck in this place for far too long, I need to get out and get some new views, see new places, meet new people. Maybe then, my armor will disintegrate and fall of me like autumn leaves, rusted pieces of my past and concrete from the wall that has surrounded me for far too long... sure, I won't let my guard down completely, that would be foolish. But this time around, a guard post at the gate will do... not some majestic impression of the wall of China.

Also... I can't shake the feeling that I'm somehow being deceived. Something ain't right, I can feel it. I can't stand being everybody's fool. Anyway, time for bed... just a day and a half left in school this week.

Nowhere

10.06 PM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,

Woah. Almost 8 months since I last wrote in you. Have you missed me? I guess I've missed you too... but not enough to actually take the time to write a few words every now and then. So now I gently brush away the dust from your cover and pick up my virtual pen, and spill my soul on these blank pages...

...that is, of course, if there is any soul left in me to spill. I doubt it. But hey, first thing's first. Let's begin where we left off... I was living together with two friends here in town, but I moved out in February and now I'm currently living alone in my own 2-room apartment, just a couple of hundred meters away from my old one. Living alone is great, I can finally wander around naked without anyone screaming or fainting from the unpleasant sight. Also, I get that time alone that I need and can control myself when and how I choose to be around people. Apart from that... everything's pretty much the same. Well... I've started studying daytime now, welding. It's not that I'm actually planning to become a welder, I just need to survive. And to be honest, it sure as hell beats sitting at home all day long doing nothing. Plus, I'm actually quite good at it...

The band is going nowhere. We found ourselves a kickass drummer in November (yeah, I know... I've said this a couple of times before, but this time it's for real. He is everything I've been looking for in a bandmate.) and then got ourselves a lead guitarist in February this year, and since then we've actually begun writing a few songs, but things haven't been moving forward at all the last month. More about that later on.

Back to the pressing issue -and with the risk of sounding overly dramatic - I'm dead inside. It's true. If you'd split me in half, nothing but dust and corpses of dead moths would flow from my veins. How many times have we been through this? How many times have I told myself that I need to change, or bitched and moaned about me being unable to do so? I feel like a broken record, repeating myself over and over again. But this is for real. Back then, at least I could write about it. Now... nothing. Totally empty. No feelings. No emotion. No soul. Things that make other people cry or smile, leaves me unaffected. Indifferent. Unconcerned. Things that used to make my heart beat faster, now passes me by as gray matter. No wonder I can't create music, art or anything that requires any form of creativity.

Yeah, yeah... I fuckin' know what you're thinking. "Here he goes again, the sad clown trying to get some compassion from people around him." It ain't about that anymore. It ain't about trying to make others feel what I feel, or understand the things I go through. This time it's pure survival, without anything else blended into the mix. I don't get hurt, because there's nothing inside of me that can be damaged.

You can't break a heart that doesn't beat.


So I will keep trying... no - I will keep fighting. One step at a time, through this heavy mud, changing myself into what I need to be to take me to where I want to be. Maybe I'll fail this time too, and I'll keep posting these words until I grow old and die forgotten in some god forsaken hospital. Hopefully not.

And hey... it's good to see you again. And yes, you too...

Long time no see, bastard...

Hateful

10.11 PM, in the middle of nowhere, Sweden

Dear diary,

I really can't control my anger anymore. It has reached the point where it gets real frightening, it takes just one wrong word to unleash it and it grows bigger than ever before, unleashing massive amounts of hate, anger and wrath. I can almost feel my blood boiling and my heart pounding, fists clenching... I know I could do what it makes me want to do, all the barriers have been breached and there is nothing left that would stop me... maybe the thought of spending the rest of my life in prison for mutilating some whore who probably had it coming anyway... but then they'll have to catch me first.

Leaving hope

8.27 PM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,

So this is what it has boiled down to. An insight, as painful as a thousand razors running down the veins of my heart, yet it is a release. The events that led me to this conclusion have been both painful and a cause of great anger and hate. Now I know;

- I can't let people into my life because of everything that has happened in the past (consult earlier entries in this diary for explanation). Making new friends is impossible, everytime someone is starting to get close, I push them away. Hide.

- People I have considered as friends are no longer making sense to me. I have alienated myself from their life, or maybe it's the other way around? No one who knows me well wants to be around me, or lie to keep me under false pretence. I resent their actions, and have tried for far too long to endure their lies and fake smiles.

- My dreams and plans for the future all involve passionate people who are willing to burn together with me as one. As a result of my inability to engage in long-term relationships, this is impossible to achieve.

- I'm alone in this. No one feels like I do, no one can ever understand me, because I can never explain myself fully to anyone. This leads to solitude.

- Solitude means that my hopes and dreams are all in vain. Without any ability to share or explain them fully to another living being, they will remain in my head until the day I die.

- This insight leads me to the conclusion that because my dreams and plans for the future will never be realized, my life is worthless. Meaningless. Pointless.

- A pointless existense is redundant, and does not contribute in any way to the society or to himself, and therefore must cease to exist. Self-termination is the only option.

- Suffering within the lone individual will increase with time passed after the conclusion has been made. A quick decision and execution of before mentioned measure is of the essence.

- Since outside help can't be accepted because of my mental condition and various flaws in my personality, such offers will be firmly, but kindly ignored.



Looks like I've lost this battle against time. We all do, eventually, but this time it's my turn.

Night's sorrow

4 AM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,







I fucked up. Big time. Now I don't know what to do...

Away with these nightmares

4.05 AM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,

Should've been asleep by now, but instead I got stuck on some random video-page, watching fail-videos and random clips for about 3 hours. Total fucking waste of time. Which is all I do nowadays. Wasting time, wasting possibilities, wasting talent, wasting dreams - wasting life. And it has come to the point where I am totally helpless, I can't change the situation even if I wanted to, I lack the strength to drag myself out of this hole I've fallen into, which creates so much anger inside of me that I'm afraid I'm going to burst in a thousand pieces at any given moment. There is so much I want to accomplish, and time is running out. Let's face it - I'm worthless, and too damn proud to admit it to myself, so I'll keep on planning, keep on dreaming, keep on thinking that maybe one day I'll be strong enough to get to where I want, only to realize that it's too late - and has been for decades.

A bullet to my head would be the best solution, that way all this anguish, anger and suffering would end, and I'd take my dreams to my grave where they would rest peacefully for once. I'm so tired of this... so tired of everything.... just so tired...

Bad seed

11.51 PM, in the middle of nowhere, Sweden


I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface

Can't you see that you're smothering me?
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control
'Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you



Can't take this any longer. I'm trapped. Behind bars.
No one... should ever be caged...

Join the club

5.12 PM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,

I remembered too late what effects that medication has the day after you've taken it... Woke up around 4 PM, dizzy, tired, blurred vision. I've been walking around in a coma ever since, but at least I've managed to eat something. The hospital called earlier... a really nice nurse or... receptionist, whatever... she asked me how I was doing, if it was an emergency or if I could wait a couple of weeks to get an appointment with a doctor. I said it didn't matter, I mean, I've lived with this for so long, what difference does it make? She seemed to care at a genuine level, nowadays you always get the feeling that people who work at hospitals, doctors, nurses and so on, they don't care about their patients, it's just their job to try and make everyone feel better, and they don't commit on a personal level.

But maybe that's what they've got to do to remain sane... what do I know. Anyway, I need to get up on my feet and do some grocery shopping... if I can make it outside without falling, I'm feeling so dizzy...

Thorn within

1.36 AM, Jönköping, Sweden

Dear diary,

I can't sleep. I can't relax, when I close my eyes, everything I've been holding back comes rushing back through my head, like a giant wave. I had to wake Alex up to ask her if I could take some of her Theralen... but that stuff's so weak it doesn't make any difference.

I did something I never thought I'd do again... I booked an appointment with a doctor to get treatment for my psychic illnesses... I'm so afraid right now. I can't talk to them, I can't say the right words to make them understand. They'll just put me on some weak medication and then say everything will be better. They won't understand.